#i only know it happened prior to July | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 month

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You should post the full screenshots, in light of everything that has happened. Not to start drama, but people should know who not to continue having a relationship with on here and block. The community feels so unsafe now that we know anyone you are talking to could be laughing at you on discord or doxxing you on social media. I only come to tumblr for the hotd fandom and it just seems to get worse here every month.

Hello, anon.

I was going to let this lie, truly I was. I was reached out to by the person behind the comments made approximately half an hour after posting, an exchange in which I was gaslighted and levied with implied threats in a style I am very much familiar with from this person. I did, however, state that I would not escalate matters without provocation. Learning about past events, while upsetting, is not a new provocation.

That has changed upon learning that my good friend Ange, @ewanmitchellcrumbs, has been receiving screenshots of specific things these users have been saying in a group chat with originally six members, now five, via burner accounts. Presumably, this is the efforts of one/two members trying to deflect from what Ange has learned about @rafeism's doxxing efforts by suggesting it was another member in the group responsible. And in the last hour, burner accounts have been attempting to share very obviously doctored screenshots attempting to assign mean-spirited comments about other writers in the community to Ange. I believe this is the work of one or both of the original two people I called out in this post, and I strongly suspect that my answering this ask will invite continued instances of this behaviour or even a direct public post incorporating edited screenshots to defame us and divert from accountability. And finally, I was informed via anon that a lawyer would come after me on the basis of lies and misrepresentation, which is a direct threat and something I will not abide.

I said I was going to expose it all if I learned of any fresh fuckery. And alas, I have. This was asked for, and now my hands are tied.

My original post was about Bel, otherwise known as @succnfuccubus or @valeskafics, and Fae, @eyelinerandcigarettes or @barbiedragon, both of whom have been historically prominent figures in the House of the Dragon fanfiction community on Tumblr.

In July of last year, Bel made a commentary post criticising fanfiction writers who did not write anal intercourse with an appropriate amount of attention paid to preparation. This was perceived to be an attack against another fanfiction writer with whom she had noted enmity at the time, @arcielee, who had written a fanfiction work that arguably did or did not meet this criteria. I do not know and cannot claim expertise on this, as @arcielee and I have mutually blocked each other some time ago. What I do know is that several of @arcielee's mutuals observed the possibility that Bel's post was about this fic; the user Cal, @bucknastysbabe or @bnb-atnite, despite having had absolutely no prior connection to Bel, decided to call her out in a public post for it. Ange, with no context other than thinking a mutual of hers (Bel) had been targeted by this user, defended Bel, believing at the time that the post was not aimed at this writer or at any specific writer she was aware of.

This prompted Cal to divert her attention from Bel and turn it toward Ange, claiming that she had been told by "dozens of people" that Ange was quote-unquote toxic and abusive, claiming to have screenshots of this though she never shared proof, and essentially spending a good several hours (the specificity of which I can no longer recall, though it was certainly over the span of 24+ hours) responding to asks that 'came forward' with incredibly inappropriate commentary about Ange's personal life and friendships under the guise of "exposing her", without however actually committing to concrete proof beyond this. I will note that several of these posts discussed the nature of Ange's marriage to her husband and outright stated that Ange was parasocially fixated on Ewan Mitchell, without proof of this. I was a peripheral target of this, though it was clear the issue was with Ange specifically. This seemed to be the efforts of a few isolated users with personal grudges against her, masquerading as anonymous users to create the perception that this toxicity was widespread. I still do not know what prompted this explosive behaviour, and have absolutely no interest in hearing from this user directly to find out.

All in all, this served to bring Bel, Ange and I together, and we created a group chat on Discord on the 26th of July 2023 so that we could discuss the effects of this effort.

Fae was added a day later, as a close friend of Bel's and an ongoing mutual of both mine and Ange. Fae had previously had a conflict with another user named Shruie over her perception that Shruie had borrowed elements of her story writing to create her own works. Shruie received hate over this, which Fae had previously stated to me was not her work. Shruie went to Cal's blog, submitted an ask publicly slandering her and us by association, and thus it was decided that Fae would join the group too.

This group originally revolved around venting over the ongoing effects of Cal's decision to publicly slander us, and the fallout of this. We received a few hate anons and several people unfollowed or distanced themselves from us all because of it, and we were all understandably angry and upset about this. This anger is justified, and I absolutely still maintain that.

However, I and others in the writing community learned that Shruie had received a number of anons with racist connotations, specifically that she had been called a 'paki' and sent rat emojis. I still am not aware of the culprit behind the 'paki' anon, but Bel herself admitted to sending the rat emojis to Shruie:

I would like to note that Fae reacted to this with the react.

I did not call this out. I should have. But given that Bel was capable of this, the idea of addressing her behaviour directly made me nervous, and so I ignored this revelation and tried to cling to the hope that if I concentrated on building closer friendships with these two women, the hate Cal was levying would die down. Eventually, it did.

However, the vitriol these two women would participate in over the course of the months we identified as 'friends' was nothing short of ugly. They did not want to speak about writing-related topics at all; the entirety of their conversation revolved around making inappropriate and at times downright nasty comments about other writers in the community, many of whom I was completely unaware of. A great deal of the time, I would ask who someone was, as I did not know them at all. Other times, I would 'lol' at a comment to further the conversation along, and I will admit to also participating in some unkind venting about people I feel had been unfair to myself or to Ange. I have already reached out to these people specifically and apologised for this behaviour, as it does not reflect who I am as a person.

Further complicating things, Bel shared the private details of a user whom we had all blocked due to her association with Cal, including the sharing of her full legal name and her private social media account. I have screenshotted this and redacted heavily as evidence it exists, but I do not wish for this information to be known public. I have already initiated conversations privately with this person to provide them evidence.

I need to be clear. This is a crime. The ONLY fortunate thing about this matter is that this information was shared specifically to Ange, Fae and I, and Ange nor I are the type of person to have acted upon the sharing of this information. To this user, I am sorry I did not reach out before now. I am sorry that I allowed our previous longstanding enmity to fuel my inaction. To this user, I promise that my knowledge of your real name or social media presence will not be revealed to anyone. I have not shared this information in any way whatsoever, though you are already aware I have spoken to a close friend of yours and asked them to pass the bare facts forward to you.

Even worse, Bel has also shared this person's image and mocked her physical appearance, which again I have a redacted screenshot of:

During the months in which I was friends with Bel and Fae, I was influenced to believe in several untruths. First of all, Ange and I were informed by Bel that a user we shall call E had deliberately chosen to speed-write a fanfiction work about Ettore in order to post it before Ange could finish her Ettore series as a means to 'drown out' her update. This fact had originally made Ange upset enough to complain without naming E directly in my public Discord server, something which spurred E to receive numerous hate anons and spark the conflict that I currently believe eventually spiralled into Cal's decision to publicly slander us. I requested evidence of this from Bel while I was writing a public post about it, so I could attach evidence. I should have known that her inability to provide it was a problem.

I was influenced to believe that another user, @targaryen-dynasty, had created her server as a means to spread inappropriate rumours about me and Ange to her mutuals. I created a falsified Discord account and joined her server to see if this fact was true; when I failed to find evidence of this after a period of time, I exited the server. I have already apologised to Laura for this, and freely admit it was stupid of me to do so. She has not engaged in inappropriate commentary about me on her server and I am happy to publicly share this. We have mended bridges, and moved on. I have also apologised to Sam, @randomdragonfires, for being unkind about her in response to Fae's upset that she had written a Daemon fanfiction work. There are many people I have been unkind about that I earnestly wish I had not been, and I have done my best to apologise for these things.

What I have not done is engage in the following.

I have a number of screenshots wherein these two women admit to sending anonymous hate messages to various users. I have reached out to who I can to provide them unredacted versions, but I will be redacting names for privacy reasons. These are throughout and as I have a photo limit, I cannot provide every single one. Here is an example:

I wish to also share the further evidence I have of racial escalations from these two women against a writer of German heritage. I have reached out to this user to share directly, but will redact the name for privacy reasons.

There are numerous instances of further hate to many, many writers. To those of you who suspect you may have had comments made about you, I invite you to reach out to me in private if you wish to know exactly what has been said. To those of you who I have already informed, I am deeply sorry I allowed myself to be silent.

Over the course of this 'friendship', I began to pull away from the internet. I barely interacted online, even with Ange, who is one of my absolute best friends on here. I did not write at all. I couldn't. I was paranoid, anxious, full of anger and fear. I was ruined. Fandom was ruined. These women ruined me. I watched on from a distance as Ange began to grow distant with Fae and Bel in the group chat, as it had been MONTHS and they were still behaving in the exact same angry, bitter way they had when they first joined the group chat. Ange grew increasingly frustrated because Bel had commenced a pattern of using Ange's content to heavily inspire her own.

It all came to a head when Bel learned that her 'enemies', Jo and Karina, had unblocked E and @arcielee and mended bridges. She decided to do the same, and in doing so apparently informed E that Ange was at fault for any and all conflict that had occurred, and I presume any and all hate anons that had been sent to E. Ange learned this because E reached out to her and sent a barrage of furious messages telling her that Bel had 'told her the truth', which Ange was completely bewildered by. Here is the exchange that effectively ended the group chat:

You will note that Bel's story is different here. I do not have screenshots verifying what Bel specifically told Ange the conversation was about, as it was a private conversation. If Ange wishes to add to this and bring this conversation up specifically, she is invited to do so.

Not long after this, seeing little point, I ejected Fae from the group and decided to leave it for the time being. You see, after learning this last fact as above, I had a very unfortunate suspicion that things were going to turn sour for us. I was right, and boy am I glad I have the evidence to dismantle the lies that have been told about us.

For a time, we existed in limbo. Bel and Fae and Ange and I had a series of lukewarm interactions that were largely brief in nature. I think we all knew that the friendship was about to come to an end.

Then, Ange reblogged an opinion post about her dislike of the bimbo trope being used for Michael Gavey fics, believing many examples of this to be an incorrect and wildly offensive representation of what writers thought was the ‘bimbo’ trope. This prompted Cal to go on another rampage, ugly and public, and one I will not post screenshots of because let’s face it, everyone is aware that it occurred. I do have them, though. I can provide them if anyone insists. She spent further time calling Ange out for being ‘toxic’, eventually having it die down when her posts failed to gain much attention. I did hit out at a few of her mutuals who tried to claim for some reason that Ange was a racist (?) because she expressed worry about Ewan attending a Con, and hoped his fans wouldn’t behave inappropriately to him. I digress. Irrelevant. The result of this all was that Bel, without warning or notice, reached out to Cal to ‘make amends’, despite having gone through all the above. Despite the fact that she was supposedly friends with Ange, who had had her marriage, her life mocked and insulted by this woman. Over what? A perception that Ange was insulting her for her love of the bimbo trope.

Ange told Bel directly that she wasn’t a fan of it but that she didn’t care either way that Bel wrote it if it made her happy, and Bel told her this was fine. Bel choosing to befriend Cal was something Ange and I felt was a massive, massive betrayal. We blocked Bel, and we moved on.

This was one of my final interactions with Fae:

I ended up blocking Fae because I learned she unfollowed me, and I presumed it was because of her friendship with Bel. I knew what Fae was like, didn’t want her to have access to my anon inbox, and so I blocked. For a very brief time, things were somewhat approaching peaceful. Until I started learning that people I barely associated with were being targeted. I learned that @marthawrites had been blocked by Chris and from her, that Bel/Fae/Cal/Chris had made reference to a quote-unquote “frightening degree of hatred” for me and Ange. From her, I also learned that Bel evidently had a burner she used to “camp out” on my blog and make screenshots of everything I said so she could mock it in her group chat. She did the same to Ange. I received a number of strange or unkind anons during this period, and so I can only speculate as to the person involved. I also learned that Bel has a habit of calling me “pedo” or “Pedo Em”, which I can only assume has something to do with the fact that my main character in my fanfiction is 17 when she is married. In A Song of Ice and Fire, this is tame.

I was deeply upset to learn this, and I made a vague-post. Within hours, I received the anon from this post, prompting me to respond in the manner I did. See, me being called a pedo is not a widely-circulated insult from my knowledge. It had to have been Bel to send it. Interestingly enough, she reached out to me not even an hour after my post went up, claiming she’d been sent a screenshot of it. I don’t believe this. Here is the exchange:

What surprised me most was when a formerly incredibly staunch friend of Cal and Chris, and Bel and Fae by association, reached out to me via a different account before completely deactivating. She grew tired of the relentless hatred circulated in the group chat she previously shared with them, and left. This prompted the entire group to block her, only after Chris called her names and Cal had what was described to me as an “absolutely psychotic” rant at her. She is struggling. She was very close friends with them, and despite having engaged peripherally in the commentary they have circulated against me and Ange for a while, I cannot hold it in my heart to be angry with her for believing lies her friends have told her. She has told me that they would repeatedly mock me and Ange, constantly trash-talked about us for months, make claims of all manner of insane things, and yet never provide a SINGLE instance of proof for this.

I would like to now provide clarification for some of the specific rumours that this former mutual informed me have been spread around about me and Ange.

Ange and I are racists who told Bel off for wanting to write Bollywood HOTD fanfiction. This is categorically untrue: see this screenshot for proof that this was never mentioned.

Ange and I bullied Fae whenever she mentioned getting her treatments for her condition (which, by the way, she has discussed online and is therefore ALSO not doxxing). See the screenshots for proof that Fae has never once mentioned it. There are specific phrases that can be searched for also, but because she has not been specific about her illness online I will not disclose the nature of this.

I have made nasty comments about Chris’s child. See the screenshot below for evidence that it is in fact Bel who called the child “a little fucker”, among other things.

Ange and I have doxxed people. See…… all the above as proof we have not. This was likely a pre-emptive deflection, and I am disappointed but not surprised by it.

That I have sent hate anons to the group, which they claimed was verifiable through their 'hacker' mutual. However, the former mutual of theirs that reached out to me has sought professional feedback about this claim, and it has been concluded that the so-called hacker was "right-clicking on page analytics" in a manner that cannot possibly reveal the identity of the anon-er. Furthermore, I didn't. They have been blocked by me.

I am responsible for @emilykaldwen blocking Cal and others. See this exchange wherein Nat informs me she already had Cal blocked. As for the accusations of a block list, this is categorically untrue. I have no screenshots to share because there are no screenshots at all. Because I did not do this.

I don’t know at this stage what else has been said. If anyone has anything further they’d want clarification for, I’m sure I could find evidence to disprove it. There are further statements that are wholly untrue that, as I do not believe they have been disclosed by any party in public, I will not share here.

None of this should have happened. None of this should have happened. How DARE you all. You have spent FAR too long abusing this fandom for your own sick, selfish amusement, and I am done. Nothing that has ever happened here was begun by either myself or Ange, and the fact that even NOW you are all attempting to redirect the blame on us or even on each OTHER is truly, truly shameful. I have owned up to the part I have played. I have apologised to the people who I have hurt, whether they had known I did it or not. That alone makes me better than you will ever be, because even now, you fail to take accountability for the full scope of what you have done. You have minimised, redirected, falsified and manipulated everyone because you do not know how to admit you were wrong without taking whatever opportunity you can to get 'the last dig' in.

What was the purpose, ladies? What is possibly going on in your life that being so angry, so hateful filled you with so much joy? Now, you’ve gone past the point of no return. You cannot come back from this. You cannot deflect from this. I’m sure you’re going to try to, maybe even to come up with “evidence” that none of this is true. You’ll lie, you’ll scramble, and you will not apologise, I’m sure. You should. Do you understand how far past the line you have crossed? Do you understand that we are actual, real people? This isn’t a game where you’re making sport out of upsetting a bunch of pixels. Ange is a journalist. I am a teacher. We are adults with full time jobs and full time lives and full time human experiences, and you have done your absolute level best to destroy us. I don’t understand why. I don’t understand how you could do this to another person. I don’t know what to do to make you stop. Do I need to deactivate? What do I need to do? You have terrified me beyond belief. I am so, so afraid of you. Does that make you happy?

I’m just speechless.

And to those of you still—STILL—clinging to supporting these women… You’re either stupid or just as horrible. The fact that people on "all sides" of this fandom have reached out to me and cleared the air should be telling enough, but I cannot change what you refuse to accept. I really don’t know what your problem is with us. With me. We’ve been holed up doing nothing for months, and that STILL wasn’t enough for you. This isn’t a game. This isn’t something you can win. This is real life, and you are making people suffer. For fucking fanfiction.

I am open to letting bygones be bygones if you genuinely didn’t know any of the above information. However, to the four of you—Bel, Fae, Chris, Cal—I do not wish you kindness. I do not wish you empathy. I do not wish for anything at all but for you to leave us alone, finally. You have burned just about every bridge possible, and the only people at fault are you. If you attempt to ‘reconcile’, your burners will be reported. If you attempt to further slander us, your posts will be reported. We are in the process of figuring out what legal recourse there is, because this has gone beyond ‘mean’ and straight to cyberstalking and criminal offence. I want you to take a good, long think about why on earth you ever thought any of this behaviour was okay. And then, I want you to stop. Stop. No one’s safety is worth your ego on Tumblr.com.

To everyone else. Please don’t get involved. Do not send any anons, any messages, any vitriol to these women. Let them reflect in peace and silence. Or let them bang at the walls of the prison of their own making. Let them lie to themselves as much as they wish.

I don’t know what to do anymore. But if anyone does have a similar story to tell about these women, please reblog this and share it. It'd be nice to know I'm not alone.

#hotd fandom drama #hotd writers #hotd writing community

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bosbas · 5 months

Text

Chapter 10: writing letters addressed to the fire

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.8k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, pining, like a lot of pining, anthony being controversial

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: they're so in their evermore era i can't

July 7, 1814 - The expectations were as high as the chandeliers at the Bridgerton Ball two nights prior. And the night did not disappoint. Our forgone diamond of the season made an appearance at the social event. A fact that is expected given the close relationship between the Beaumonts and Bridgertons, but a pleasant surprise given her recent absence from social happenings. While previously the center of attention, Miss Beaumont danced only once at the Bridgerton Ball with one Mr. Alexander Beaumont. Yes, dear reader, her brother. This leaves us with the lingering question: why did Miss Beaumont choose her brother over the allure of a potential match? It seems that Miss Beaumont is simply tired of the ton's social scene, or perhaps she has lost some of her shine now that her best friend has left for the countryside.

He cleared his throat, rubbing his thumb on his lower lip. Finally meeting your eyes, he said, "Well, I was wondering if you'd want to marry me."

You choked, completely taken aback. "Are you alright, Anthony?" you asked, nervously laughing. "Was the whiskey too strong for you after all?"

He pinched his nose, annoyed at your flippant response, but couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Be quiet! I'm trying to help you!" he said, laughing.

You were in hysterics now, too. "Help me?! Help me how, pray tell," you managed to get out between giggles.

"You are impossible! How Benedict deals with you so regularly, I have no idea!" he shot back, poking you in the arm as he said each word.

You gasped in mock offense. "Low blow, Anthony, even for you," you said, shaking your head at him, unable to keep from laughing. "Surely you're joking. Why should I let you marry me?"

"Let me marry– Bloody hell, Y/N, and excuse my language, but really, I am coming from a good place here, and you are making it so difficult," he responded, clearly exasperated by your inability to take him seriously.

You ceased laughing and looked at him directly, cocking your head and widening your eyes when you realized he was being sincere. "Anthony? Surely you're joking, right? Does Alex know? He'll kill you if he finds out you proposed to his little sister."

He sighed deeply, shifting in his seat. "Look, I am not joking. But let me explain first, and then you can ask me questions."

You could do little but stare at him, lips parted in confusion. "Go on, then," you said finally, very interested in hearing an explanation for this incredibly unexpected proposal.

Anthony looked over to where Alex was sitting, deep in conversation with your father, and then looked back to you. He turned in his seat so he was fully facing you, one hand on the back of his chair and the other on his knee, contemplating how best to explain himself without sounding insane. "I know it sounds like a crazy idea. Trust me, I can barely imagine it myself. But I do think it might be a good one," he said finally, hoping to get some kind of response from you, only to be met with a blank stare. You were still entirely unconvinced of his proposal, barely believing that he was being serious.

"Listen, what you said two nights ago is not something I take lightly, given that you mean so much to us, to me and Benedict and our family. And I can see that you're having a rough go of it. The roughest go of it, actually," he continued.

"And you think marrying me will solve my problems because...?" you cut in, not quite following Anthony's logic.

"Well, I've been trying to explain my thought process for the past five minutes, but you're making it awfully hard, Y/N," he shot back, raising his eyebrows at you, amused. You rolled your eyes good-naturedly in response but sat back so you could let him continue.

"This might make more sense if I explain my side of things a bit more, actually," he decided, mentally rearranging what he was going to say to you. "Alex and Simon already know this, but my intention has never been to marry for love. Above all, I view marriage as a duty to my family. Since my father passed, I have been the one responsible for them, and they are the dearest thing in the world to me, as you well know."

At the mention of Edmund, you reached out and placed a hand on Anthony's, remembering how difficult it was for the family when his father passed. He shot you a grateful smile, covering your hand with his and clearing his throat before he continued speaking.

"I will be perfectly candid with you, Y/N, because you deserve nothing less. I was planning on looking for a wife next season, but even so, I believe that pursuing love is an unpleasant and unimportant endeavor, at least for me."

You gasped, slightly taken aback at his cynical views, though yours weren't much sunnier. "Don't you want to fall in love, Anthony? Don't you think you'll find a partnership like the one your parents had?" you prodded, overwhelmed by a sense of sadness. But you also felt somewhat understood, knowing now that Anthony had an unconventional view of marriage.

He gave you a knowing look, saying only, "Don't you?"

Knowing he had a point, you let up. "Fair enough, I suppose," you answered. Is that how you sounded when you spoke of getting married? You were completely disillusioned with the notion, but you had given it more than a few honest tries, while Anthony was set on never looking for a love match. It was quite ironic, seeing how much your parents loved each other and the love between Daphne and Simon, that you and Anthony had developed such depressing views on marriage. You saw Anthony nod in your direction, seemingly happy with your answer.

After a slight pause, Anthony winced, knowing he was about to share much more than he usually would. However, he knew that this would potentially benefit you both, so he fought through the discomfort. "Seeing my mother fall apart after Father died was awful to watch, and I would never want to cause someone that pain. My goal is not to find passion but to secure my family's future. And I was hoping to find someone who would want this different sort of partnership," he said, looking at you pointedly. You had already started connecting the dots in your head and thought you were catching on to where this was going now.

"So you want to have an unconventional marriage together, then?" you asked, hoping you had understood correctly.

He patted your hand, relieved you finally understood what he intended the proposal to sound like rather than the abrupt and blunt question he had asked earlier. "Yes, precisely. Of course, I want you to take as much time as you need to consider this decision since it is quite important. I doubt we would seek an expedited marriage license, but obviously, we can sort out the minutiae later if you decide to do this. There is no pressure one way or another, I simply wanted to give you an option you had probably not considered before," he said, searching your face for any reaction.

However, you remained guarded, still unsure about your feelings. Saying yes to this proposal would definitively mean saying no to Benedict. But Benedict had not even asked you anything, you argued internally. There was nothing to say no to. In fact, he had been the one to say no to you. But you didn't know if you were ready to give up all hope yet. Perhaps you were a fool, but then again, you always were when it came to your best friend.

If you accepted Anthony's proposal, would the now-permanent ache in your chest worsen at the knowledge that you could never have Benedict? Or would you feel better, getting closure Benedict would never give you?

You felt a surge of anger shoot up your spine. Why couldn't Benedict be the one asking you this? After twenty years, why was he the one who left you alone and confused while Anthony was left to pick up the broken pieces of you Ben left behind so carelessly? Even setting aside the added issue of your unrequited feelings for Benedict, Anthony was being a much better friend than him right now. But your anger dissipated quickly, dissolving into desperate sadness. You missed Ben so much; the short letters he had been sending were unsuccessful in placating the ever-growing need to feel his presence beside you. The overwhelming sense that something about you was missing was almost too much to handle, and you felt yourself going around in circles in your head about what you wanted to do.

You knew it could never be the same with Benedict regardless, so you reasoned that you would at least consider Anthony's proposal. You owed it to yourself to consider someone other than Benedict and something other than perpetual singledom without any children to raise or read to.

Realizing Anthony was patiently waiting for you to say something in response, you spoke up. "In theory, this doesn't sound like a terrible partnership," you started, laughing when Anthony snorted and muttered a short "Why, thank you."

"Shush! I'm trying to consider your proposal, and you're making it quite difficult to spend longer than twenty minutes with you, let alone the rest of my life," you joked, stomach dropping slightly when you mentioned the concept of forever. Pushing through your fear, you kept speaking, "I know you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I know you would not do something like this without a plan. So tell me your plan, and I will consider it and give you my answer once I have one."

Anthony couldn't help but laugh at your scolding tone, "You're not wrong." However, he knew he had to be careful about how he presented his reasoning for this proposal. It was no secret that he thought his brother a complete buffoon for refusing to marry you. Anyone could see that your best friend was madly in love with you, and Anthony was beyond confused as to why Benedict was being obtuse and frankly stupid when you so clearly loved him just as much.

It was hard to miss the alarmingly fond looks the two of you exchanged, not to mention what must be dozens of sketches of you in Benedict's studio, try as he might to make it look like there weren't that many. But what really made it the most obvious was Benedict's manner of speaking about you. It was beautiful to hear when Ben forgot himself and spent nearly an hour discussing a fascinating observation you had made about one of his paintings. Or when he saw Eloise reading a book you had read and launched into a speech about your genius way of interpreting a particular passage. Or even when Anthony inquired about any of the paintings of you in his studio and his brother began a lengthy explanation of how he wanted to paint your eyes in a way that captured your thoughtful yet soft gaze, in Ben's words. Benedict's unwavering and wholehearted admiration of you rivaled that of his parents. It seemed to Anthony that you were the sun, and Benedict was happy to be in your orbit if only to relish in the warmth and comfort you brought him. And the same could be said for you.

So, choosing his words carefully, Anthony avoided saying anything that would upset you, knowing you were still raw from Benedict's sudden departure a few weeks ago. "To start, a legal union between our families would only strengthen our bond, and I know we both would still like to remain close with our families after we are married."

Gauging a positive reaction from your raised eyebrows and slight nod, he continued. "Perhaps the most obvious advantage is that we would have the marriage we both want. I would, of course, encourage you to continue pursuing your studies after we were married, and though I would like to have children, and I know you do as well, I am in no particular rush if you don't feel ready yet," he continued.

To be fair, Anthony made a compelling argument. Although your ideal marriage was still the one you had imagined with Benedict as a child, Anthony was realistically the best option for you, especially with the men of the ton being as dreadful as they were and Ben off in the countryside for who knows how long.

"I don't want to feel suffocated by my husband, Anthony," you warned, earning a laugh from him.

"I know you think I'm insane, but I promise I don't want to be a suffocating husband. We want a lot of the same things, just for different reasons," he responded, ready to answer any and all rebuttals you had. Anthony knew this would be a difficult decision, and he had come prepared with the utmost patience to ensure he got rid of all of your doubts to the best of his abilities. Having watched you grow up and grown up alongside you, he had a deep fondness for you, often feeling as protective over you as he did over Eloise or Daphne. Anthony cared about you and wanted the best for you, no matter what that might entail. And if he could find a wife a season earlier than he had expected while you got what you deserved, that was just an added bonus.

In the back of his mind, Anthony hoped that if you accepted his proposal, Benedict might come to his senses before the engagement progressed too far. But he would be a fool to count on his brother to do so, based on how Ben had acted so far. Anthony knew it would be cruel to tell you this and raise your spirits only to be disappointed again. If it came to it, Anthony would be happy to marry you. It was a very practical union, and Anthony quite liked practical things.

"It makes sense, in a way, I suppose. We do want similar things," you muttered to yourself. "And you'd let me read as much as I wanted?" you asked, needing reassurance.

"I promise," answered Anthony, smiling sweetly at you. "Besides, we are already very acquainted with one another, having grown up together, and I'm sure it'd be good fun to be married. Well, at least I think so. And you know me well enough to be able to make that decision for yourself."

You nodded thoughtfully, mulling over all of the possible caveats you could think of to bring up to Anthony. If you were going to go through with this, you needed to be absolutely sure that it was what you wanted. Although it was getting difficult to find negatives about this possible union. It seemed that you would have much more agency with Anthony than if you were married to anyone else, bar Benedict, or as a spinster.

"What about Alex?" you settled on asking. "Have you talked about this with him?"

Both of you subconsciously turned to look at your older brother and then at each other. Anthony gave a slight shake of his head. "No, not yet. But I have a feeling he'll understand and even be supportive. Especially after the other night. And especially now that Benedict left."

You furrowed your brow, confused. What did Anthony mean, especially now that Benedict left? You were about to ask for clarification when Anthony cut in.

"Anyway, don't worry about Alex. I will talk to him and your father, and I know they will be on board with whatever you choose. So all you have to do is decide if this is something you want to do or not," he said quickly, trying to make up for the fact that he had revealed too much before. Anthony knew Alex had similar feelings to Anthony, perhaps even more pent-up anger at Benedict than he did since Benedict was hurting Alex's little sister. But he hadn't meant to tell you so directly. Anthony mentally kicked himself for rubbing salt on your metaphorical wound. Although it seemed that you had let go of his comment, for now, he noted as he watched you rubbing your temples, deep in thought.

You sighed deeply, coming to the realization that this could be it. This decision could change your life forever, and perhaps Benedict's life, depending on how he handled the news. If you accepted the proposal, of course. You couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of guilt, knowing that you could never feel for Anthony the same way you felt about Benedict.

"And you'd be alright with me not being in love with you? I don't think I can do that again. After Benedict," you said softly, still wanting to avoid thinking about losing him as much as possible.

"Yes, I would prefer it, actually," said Anthony, smiling at you. But his playful demeanor was wrapped in a careful tenderness. He understood you better than most people, having learned to see you, above all, through Benedict's eyes. He knew you were terrified. Of being married and not being married, of losing yourself and of staying exactly the same as you were now.

He was terrified, too, to be honest. He knew Benedict would be impossibly angry with him, even though he really had no reason to be, and feared their relationship could be fractured. Not to mention that Anthony had been dreading marriage ever since that fateful day his father fell ill from a bee sting, leaving his mother alone in the empty shell of their loving partnership. He supposed the two of you did sort of make sense in a peculiar way.

"Alright, go away, please," you shooed Anthony away. "I have to actually think about it now. But no matter what happens, I want you to know I'm grateful for your offer. I know it's coming from a very generous place, and it really does mean the world," you added, squeezing his hand as he stood up.

"Of course, Y/N. I'm not Benedict, but you're very important to me nonetheless. Take as much time as you need," he responded, returning your squeeze and making his way over to Colin and Theo, giving you space to mull over your decision.

That was precisely the situation, you thought. Anthony wasn't Benedict. And you had to decide whether or not that was good enough for you. It was a very compelling offer, and you knew it might be your only chance to have anything close to the sort of life you had hoped to have before Henri and the rest of the men of the ton so pointedly crushed your dreams. Benedict was the only reason not to marry Anthony, and he had been quite clear in saying that he wouldn't marry you. But you wanted to enjoy a few more days of imagining that Ben could be yours in some capacity before you had to move on from him forever.

---

Shoving a pile of unsent letters aside, Benedict set a fresh sheet of paper down and started yet another letter he was unlikely to send to you. Now that he had ceased going to parties and bringing home a different woman every night, he found himself with ample bouts of time that he dedicated almost exclusively to thinking about you.

With each new letter you sent, Benedict found himself lost in your words, re-reading them constantly and clinging to any fragment of you that he could still claim as his. In response, he wrote pages and pages of prose he would never send. These ranged from letters he could plausibly send to you, responding to every comment you had made about the book you had read that day. Others were less tame. Sometimes, he found himself unable to keep his overflowing feelings inside of him any longer, choosing instead to write heart-wrenching confessions of a love so deep and all-consuming that it permeated every fiber of his being. But Anthony's words reverberated in his head, warning him not to lead you on, every time he contemplated addressing these letters.

But Benedict loved you. The real, soul-crushing sort of love that only came once in a lifetime. The kind of love that grew from years of being by your side, knowing every detail of you, and still wanting to know more. He was far past the point of denying it and had now stumbled on an agonizing feeling of wanting. He wanted you by his side while he painted, quietly discussing the colors or the shading he was working on. He wanted to put his head in your lap as you sat in the garden, feeling your fingers running softly through his hair. He wanted to look over at night and find your sleeping form beside him, less than an arm's length away as he fell asleep holding you. Most of all, he wanted to be content in the knowledge that he could hold your hand, breathe in your scent, and twist your hair in his fingers as he kissed you every single day for the rest of his life.

The moment in your garden by the rose bushes from the day before he left, where he came so close to kissing you, haunted his every waking moment. He couldn't seem to forget the way your lips parted, moving ever so slightly closer to his. The feeling of your soft breath against his skin, luring him in. He had been so close to just giving in and touching your expectant lips with his. It was all he had dreamed about doing ever since he had come back from Oxford and felt you in his arms, realizing that he never wanted to spend another day apart from you. He still wondered what would have happened if he had just done it. If he had just leaned over a few inches to join your lips and brushed his thumb on your cheek as he grabbed your waist. But he hadn't. Instead he had fled to the countryside, where he was missing you more than ever and ridden with jealousy at the thought of you with another man.

Benedict didn't know if the ache of longing would ever fade. All he knew was that you were a permanent mark left on him he would never be able to wash off even if he wanted to. A part of him would always be you. The proof of that was on his desk cluttered with letters that would never find their way to you and in his studio housing nearly a dozen unfinished portraits of you.

Clutching to a sliver of hope, he held onto the fact that no news of your engagement had reached him. Yet, each day brought with it a tormenting dread as he approached his unopened letters, torn between the desperate hope for a letter from you and the paralyzing fear that he would receive an invitation to your wedding. But for now, he could still pretend you were his, at least partially.

—

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ameagrice · 30 days

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chapter thirty-one | bad idea, right?

the battle of the labyrinth

percy jackson x fem reader

“Talk. Just talk. I know you can do it,” you said quietly. You grit your teeth together, lips pressed so firmly they almost hurt, smiling with irritance. You leaned in close to the hippie mummy chilling in the attic, trying not to pay too much attention to the musty smell up this close. “Look, we don’t want any surprises this year. Just tell me what I’ve got coming my way and I’ll leave you alone.”

The Oracle was motionless, sitting stiffly, as if you hadn’t breathed down her neck for the last thirty minutes interrogating.

You moved back, gesturing to her. The sheer disbelief you felt was unmatched. “I don’t believe this. I don’t believe you. So, what, you just tell me shit I don’t want to hear when I don’t need it but when I steal over a thousand dollars, what? Nothing?”

Not even a twitch.

You scoffed, and dropped the old tea towel on the floor. You had found it in a cupboard, when rifling through them this morning in search of a good weapon. You didn’t have the energy to go make a sword in the armory, and maybe a relic from the past could give you some luck. Some heroes had done well on their quests once upon a time and had to have left something behind, right? Upon a lack of weapon-finding, you eyed the figure at your shoulder, and had a thought.

A half hour later, you were just angrier than you started.

You turned back to the oracle, pointing your finger firmly in her direction. “You’re a joke. I hope you know that. I could get more information from a rock.“

Huffing, you set off down the narrow staircase and all the way back down to the main room. Chiron and Mr. D were doing some sort of nattering over a game at the small table when you came strolling through, hoping to avoid conversation.

Because, jeez, you’d just turned fifteen. You barely wanted to talk to anyone these days. Your cabin counselor had explained to you—in the midst of an emotional outburst—that it was just hormones. You angrily told her she could shove her hormones up her ass.

“Find anything useful?” Chiron spoke briefly.

“I could make a rock bleed before that thing told me anything. Why is nothing going my way?!”

And for goodness sake, was the sun extra burny today or were you just burning for the fun of it? It felt like your skin was peeling off, and the urge to dunk yourself in the lake grew more appealing by the second. Percy’s birthday was only days away, yours having passed exactly a month prior to his, on July 27th.

Your shorts chafed, making that irritating sound and the sweat under your arms that your shirt absorbed made the want to scream grow by the millisecond. Feeling your sock sliding down in your shoe was the last straw.

Out on the porch, Travis ripped up pieces of grass and littered them. At your appearance, he went to swing his arm around your shoulders.

“Don’t touch me!”

And, god love him, Travis didn’t.

He just laughed. “Calm down! You look—”

You turned to him with a tight jaw. Over the past months, Travis had reached a height you couldn’t believe, nearing 5’11. He let his hair grow out into a curly mass of soft chocolate.

He swallowed back what is what he was just about to say.

“I’m sweating,” you seethed. “It’s too hot. And my sock—is—falling,” you ripped your shoe off, yanking your sock up, “down.”

Sweaty shoe in hand, you turned and stormed off. Halfway down the hill, the other shoe came off, and the feel of them tapping against your thigh, held by the laces, was going to send you over the edge.

Travis blinked. His hands, freckled and golden, hovered unsurely.

“Hey—wait for me!” He called.

Briefly, his footsteps grew louder until the boy walked at your side—or, rather, paced. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Since your outburst after the quest in the winter, Travis had made it clear that he was there if you wanted to talk, and had on multiple occasions coaxed you into talking the problems out. It was like your current anger didn’t matter to him, or how easily upset you were lately. Your stomach had been killing for days, today worst of all. You knew what was on its way. On and off for years you’d gotten used to growing in all the ways all girls unfortunately had to. You just wished everything would stop and slow down.

“We have archery this afternoon,” Travis tried cautiously. You hummed. “If that’s something you’re up for.”

“I’m up for throwing myself into the lake,” you retorted. As you grew closer to it, it looked even more appealing.

“Right. Yeah. If that’ll make you feel better—”

“Travis, just, stop!” Your hands flew around so violently you almost hit yourself with your shoes. Travis’s concern made your heart swell, but the extra attention made you feel uneasy. “Please just—I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Okay? I’m just hot and sweaty and oh my god I smell of sweat and I’m starving and—”

Yeah. It was time for a detour.

“I’m going back to the cabin.”

Long story short, by dinner time, you’d calmed down somewhat. A cold shower, a frustrated cry, and a laugh with Annabeth about frying pans, and everything was right again.

Being a girl was exhausting.

The next week, you were heading into Manhattan to check out a new school, with Percy.

“Bro,” Percy called down from the fire escape. You grinned up at him. “Mom wants to know if you want stuffed crust or normal.”

“Is both an option?”

“You read my mind.”

The Jackson apartment in Manhattan sat in a relatively peaceful street. The occasional car horn, a few loud talkers on the street below. Sally Jackson braided your hair. Percy ate a slice of your pizza. And you nearly wrestled one another down the staircase the next morning, but you made it to the car in one place, backpacks at the ready for a new year.

A better year.

Just a trial day, at Paul Blofis’s school. If it went well, and you wanted to go back to traditional schooling, Sally had made it clear you were more than welcome to go with them. To stay with them.

“You’re always welcome here,” she placed a hot chocolate down in front of you, the night before. Her eyes were soft. I understand, they said. I’ve felt it, too.

For once, you could breathe. A smile, a relieved nod. “I know.”

Months from that moment, you’ll sit at a polished dining table, lighting Finney’s birthday candles. There will be ice cream and sunshine, and an innate nervousness that disappears. Rachel will hold his other hand, and Percy Jackson, freshly sixteen, will smile at you, and everything will be right in the world.

But now—

Sally Jackson tapped her fingers on the wheel. She wore a pretty blue dress (which you’d helped her pick out) and heels, ready for a job interview.

Percy, in the passenger seat, looked a little troubled. You watched his dark brows knit together. “You haven’t told Paul about me, have you?”

Sally paused. “I thought we should wait until after orientation.”

“So we don’t scare him off.”

“It’ll be fine, Percy.” She reached across for his cheek, affectionately patting him. Percy rolled his eyes. “It’s just orientation. And after that, the two of you are going for ice cream, right?”

“Too damn right.”

Percy’s cheeks flamed pink. You grinned wickedly, relishing in his discomfort.

Sally smiled, looking at you in the rear view mirror for a second. “And then tomorrow, you’ll be back in camp.”

It wasn’t as if Percy despised camp, but it was obvious he much preferred to be home. The last week at their house, you’d felt that way, too. Sally Jackson had created a warm, comforting environment for her son, and in welcoming you to their mix, had treated you just like she would a daughter, not just her son’s friend.

Fifteen—a funny age for all.

You’d witnessed Percy’s growth, too. His hair had only grown messier, and thicker (Sally had to beg him for a hair cut). His voice had deepened a little more, and he’d grown about six inches (you measured before you left camp). Almost unfairly, his eyelashes even seemed to get longer, and his eyes remained the prettiest shade of blue-green you ever did see.

Sally stopped just outside the school, red-bricked and tall, facing the morning sun. Already, at this hour, it buzzed with life.

Percy got out of the car.

You got out of the car.

Sally drove away.

And you made eye contact with something that made your skin crawl.

Your shoulders sagged. “Already?!”

“You saw it too?”

“Yup.”

Percy heaved a great sigh. “Fantastic.”

“Come on,” you grabbed his arm. “Let’s just go and have a good day while we can.”

Your friend side-eyed you curiously. “You’re…strangely optimistic this morning.”

Yeah. Because the worst part of the month was finally over.

You smiled cheerfully, practically skipping up the steps. “That’s because it’s sunny and it’s good and it’s going to be a good day.”

Your friend gave a solid salute, earning himself a smack on the arm and a smile. Shaking off the bad feeling, up the steps you went. Percy abruptly stopped and pulled on your arm, a terrified look on his face.

“Oh, come on, now—”

“How about we find a side entrance?” He flailed, cheeks flaming bright strawberry. You frowned.

“Percy, what?”

Wrist in his hand, Percy’s strong grip pulled you along, round the side of the building and through an open door, where two cheerleaders were waiting, in purple and white uniforms.

“Hi!” They blinded with their bright smiles simultaneously. Percy gawped like a fish. You elbowed him in the ribs. The one on the left, tall, pretty, African American with curly hair, the one on the right, also tall, pretty, with the blonde ponytail. You scanned them quickly over with your eyes, feeling uneasy still, but tried to pass it off as first day jitters.

“Welcome to Goode High School,” the blonde said. “You’re going to love it.”

Ooooooh. Alarm bells began to ring.

It could have been her attitude. It might have been their intimidating demeanour. But most of all, it was the smell of washed horses. The smell of the camp stables. Unless these girls had come fresh from a riding lesson in Manhattan (which you highly doubted—you’d already tried to get one) they should not have smelled as such.

“What are your names, de—freshmen?” The curly-haired girl stepped so close you thought she was going to push you down the stairs.

“Uh, I’m Percy.”

The blonde giggled. It sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, Percy Jackson, have we been waiting for you!”

Yeah. Time to go.

“Code red,” you hissed, turning and looking around shortly to make it discreet. “Code red!”

Percy didn’t move. They turned on you.

“You look familiar!” The blonde girl smiled. “I think I’ve met your mother.”

Laughing awkwardly, you shot a finger gun anxiously her way. “See... No. You definitely haven’t. But anyway, we should be going now, right, Percy?”

You watched his hand pull out his sword in pen-form from the pocket of his jeans, stepping back slightly from the cheerleaders. It was at this moment, Paul Blofis made an appearance, saving the day.

“Hey, guys!” He smiled, bounding up the steps behind you. In his teacher’s shirt and pants, tie done smartly, he was the epitome of welcoming. That kind smile, those warm, shining eyes, said it all. Percy was a lucky guy to have a man like Paul around, even if he’d been seeing Sally for only a few months. “Good to see you’re both here! Why don’t you go on in and we’ll figure out where to go first?”

In his rush to move past the cheerleaders (you’d taken the slow-breaths-and-calm-movement approach), Percy pushed past the blonde cheerleader. Her paper name tag, so loosely stuck on her shirt, floated to the ground: Tammi. Percy’s knee struck her calf, and—

CLANG. The sound of pure metal.

All you wanted was a simple life.

“Ow,” she murmured. “Watch it, fish.”

You murmured an Australian-sounding ‘ah, shi—’ when Paul Blofis popped up beside you. He clapped his hands together, kind eyes going from you to your friend.

“Welcome to Goode! Everything alright, guys? Percy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Before said boy could stutter his way into trouble, you raised a hand and gently slapped his cheek, playfully. Paul grinned.

“He’s just nervous,” you explained. Paul ‘ah’d, and clapped Percy on the back.

“I get that, but don’t worry. We get a lot of kids here with ADHD and dyslexia. The teachers know how to help.”

Percy nodded his head, shaking his too-long hair.

“So, where to first?” Asked Paul.

“Could we check out the literature stuff? I kind of wanna go there. What do you think?”

Percy’s red face had reappeared.

You shook your head, pulled a face. “Dude, what’s going on?”

“Where’s the fun stuff? Like, the gym?” He rambled quickly.

Following his line of sight, standing down the hall by the main doors, was a skinny, wild-haired girl.

You gasped like you’d never done so before, so loud it scratched your throat. But the shock was very real. You felt your jaw drop.

Rachel. Elizabeth. Dare.

Percy yanked on your wrist so firmly the gasp cut off violently, yanking you down the hall in a run.

“The day just gets worse!” You exclaimed. “First, monsters. And now her!”

“Just—forget she’s here!”

“Forget about it?! She’ll be looking for us, no doubt!”

During your excursions last season, you’d ran into Rachel Elizabeth Dare purely by coincidence, a mortal with the Sight. Instantly you hated her and her over-exaggerated passion for the arts. And, more importantly, you hated her obvious crush on Percy. It wasn’t one-sided, however—she’d made it pretty obvious that she hated you, too. So it was equal. And you didn’t feel bad.

Barrelling into the gym, you pulled Percy to a stop.

“All I want,” you breathed, “is a normal life. That means one without Rachel Dare or monsters at every corner.”

Percy blew his fringe away from his eyes. “You and me both,” he panted.

Banners hung on every breezeblock wall of the gym, and little groups of teens clumped here and there. A marching band stopped playing abruptly. A hand fell to your shoulder; on the defence, you shoved yourself away quickly. The girl’s hand fell.

“What are you doing here?” She stropped.

“What does it look like, Ronald—”

“Hey!” Percy cut in, smiling with his teeth clenched. “Rachel Elizabeth Dare!”

Her jaw dropped, green eyes moving from you to Percy and back again. “You’re Percy…somebody. I didn’t get your full name last year when you, oh, you know, tried to kill me.”

“The only attempt on your life was those jeans—”

“Ohhh-kay,” Percy pushed you aside. “What are you doing here, Rachel?”

She took a breath, gestured to the hall. “Same as you, I guess. Orientation.”

“You live here? In New York?”

She pulled a face. “You thought I lived at the Dam?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Percy practically tweaked on the spot. He slowly turned his head and made a sudden move of bugging his eyes to you, a gesture to say shut up, man.

Amidst the talking, you hadn’t noticed the groups of people get together to stand with the three of you near the bleachers. Somebody behind you hissed a ‘shh’.

So you did it right back.

“The cheerleaders are talking!” He defended. “Shut up!”

“Oh, big whoop!”

“Dude, for once, I’m begging you, now is not the time.”

“Tell that to Ronald McDonald.”

“Hi, guys!” A bubbly cheer came from the front centre hall. The blonde cheerleader, Tammi, smiled a pearly white flash. “I’m Tammi, and this is, like, Kelli.” In a flurry of perfect timing, Kelli did a one-handed cartwheel.

You weren’t jealous, or anything.

Behind you, Rachel yelped. You wondered just weirder this girl could get.

Until she suddenly said, “Run.”

And you figured now was as good a time as any to follow her direction, when Tammi looked you dead in the eye.

“Why?” Percy called, dumbly.

“Y’know, just this once I’m gonna follow Ronald.”

Rachel pushed her way to the front with Percy and yourself following close behind. Tammi and Kelli were halfway through explaining how the school was going to form small groups and tour different parts of the building.

In a music room down the quiet hall, devoid of any other students, you found Rachel crouching behind a giant drum set.

“Hey, this is nice—!”

Rachel yanked on your shirt sleeve and hissed, “Idiot! Get down! Did they see you?”

You eyed her hand on your sleeve. “This is Wet Seal—”

“I don’t think so,” Percy gasped for breath like a fish out of water. “What are they? Did you see?”

For the first time, you settled down and listened to what Rachel had to say. Her eyes were bright with caution—afraid to say out loud what might sound crazy to the wrong people. But you and Percy were the right people.

“You…wouldn’t believe me.”

“Believe us, there’s nothing we haven’t seen. You can see through the Mist.”

“The what?”

“Mist. It’s like a veil between our world and the normal. Except for those among us like us, the veil blends out. You can see through it.”

Something like recognition flashed through Rachel’s eyes. “At Hoover Dam,” she breathed slowly. “You called me a mortal. Like…you’re not. You see through the Mist. You saw through the Mist. Tell me. You know what it means! Tell me why I see all these horrible things.”

Empathy did not come alongside your viewings of Rachel Elizabeth Dare. This time, for the first and only time, you accepted it.

“You’re not crazy. You don’t need meds. You’re definitely not schizophrenic. D’you know anything about the Greek myths?”

“Like the Minotaur? And the Sirens?”

Percy nodded. The screech of a shoe on polished floor came from a way down the hall. “Yeah. Just try not to say those names when we’re around.”

“And the Furies, and the Hydra—!”

Percy hushed her amusedly. “Yeah, yeah! Okay. All those monsters, the Greek gods, they’re real.”

“I knew it!” She shrieked. “You don’t know how hard it’s been!”

“Try us.”

“For years I thought I was going crazy, I couldn’t tell anyone. They’d send me to some wilderness school somewhere.”

You couldn’t help the embarrassed giggle. “Yeah. You were right there. That place ain’t it.”

“Wait.” She frowned suddenly. “Who are you two? I mean really.”

“Not monsters.”

“Well I know that. I could see if you were. You look normal. But you’re not human exactly, are you. Either of you.”

Percy slung a heavy arm around your shoulder, raising his hand to pat your face. “We’re half-bloods. Half human, half god.”

Just then, Tammi and Kelli shoved the music room door open, and strutted in like they were walking for Victoria’s Secret. Your head spun to them.

Tammi gushed. “Oh, wow! There you guys are! You’re missing your orientation!”

“Purposefully,” you smiled. “Take a hint, Tammi.”

Rachel had whitened and gasped. “They’re horrible.”

“Oh, forget her.” Tammi waved. Kelli blocked the doors, while Tammi sauntered over.

“Percy…” Rachel warned.

“Uhhhhhh—”

Come on brain, think of something! Anything useful, mom!

It was right in front of your face: the drum cymbal. The metal, circular thing with a cellotaped sticker across its bronze surface.

“Guys!”

You reached behind you for Percy’s jacket and dug your hand around in there, trying to get a hold of his sword in pen form. It didn’t take long, and upon uncapping it, it instantly transformed into Riptide. Percy didn’t object. And his sword fit perfect in your hands.

“This is our school,” Tammi giggled disgustingly. she neared so close you had the tip of Riptide at the hallow between her collarbones. An instant passing. “We feed on who we choose.”

Her true image flickered.

“A vampire!” Rachel gasped.

Percy hummed, rising to stand behind you. “With…furry legs?”

“Don’t mention the legs!” Tammi snapped sensitively. “It’s very rude!”

She advanced on her furry legs. It would have been funny, did she lack the scarlet eyes and fangs so sharply pointed.

Kelli laughed from the doorway. “A vampire, you say? Silly demigods. That legend was based on us. We are empousai, the servants of Hecate.”

Out of nowhere, Rachel flung her arm back and launched a drumstick at Kelli, hitting her in the eye. She practically growled in anger and turned on Rachel instantly.

“We don’t usually kill girls,” she ground out. “But for you, I’ll make an exception! Your eyesight is a little too good!” Kelli clicked her fingers, and Tammi pounced.

Girl code applied here. Riptide to the rescue. You shifted forward and raised Riptide above your head, swinging the sharp sword down across Tammi’s head. Her eyes flashed and her mouth snarled and the set of pincer-sharp teeth came your way. Before her teeth met your skin, she burst into gold shimmer and shiny flecks. She exploded all over you and Rachel. You wrinkled your nose while Rachel coughed and gagged, the both of you covered in monster dust.

Kelli shrieked furiously, like Regina George. “You killed my trainee! You need a lesson in school spirit, half-blood!”

“You’re a shit teacher,” you shrugged. “What can I say?”

Kelli began to change. And by change, you meant absolutely turn inside out, the other way around, back to front. Not. Right. Her hair turned to flickering, orange flames, the heat prominent on your face. Her eyes turned scarlet and her teeth grew sharp like Tammi’s did. She loped forward. You shifted back into Percy, and held his sword out to the side, shifting Rachel back too from her shocked stance.

“I am a senior empousa,” she laughed spitefully. “No hero has bested me in over a thousand years.”

You swallowed hard. “Huh. Then I guess you’re long overdue.”

Kelli pounced at you, and Rachel screamed. Percy yelled some profanity behind you; there was a loud crash of a drum bass and a terrible tearing sound. You wrestled with Kelli for a solid few seconds, well aware that you still had a grip on Percy’s weapon. The worst part of being a half-blood—having no choice in fighting monsters like Kelli. It’s annoying, having no choice. It makes you angry. And not just at yourself, but the gods, who with their power, could probably just eradicate the whole of Kelli’s species in the flick of a wrist.

Kelli fawned. “Aw,” she cooed. “That’s such a cute little blade! I think you should give it back to its owner.”

The Mist is strong here. It had never fully fooled you; having seen things that weren’t supposed to there since you could form proper sentences. You’ve always seen through it, a blessing and a curse. Here, though, something stronger is at play and Kelli’s form is flickering between her true self and a cheerleader.

She laughed. “Poor girl, you don’t even know what’s happening! Your camp is going up in flames pretty soon, you should know. You’ll all be slaves to the Lord of Time, and there’s nothing you can do about it! I’d be doing you a favour, ending your lives!”

Laughter echoed down the hall; the group from the gym must be starting their orientation. Kelli tilted her head, hearing it too. “Great! We’re going to have company!” She pounced at you, forcing you to roll out of the way. Percy’s sword lay on the ground between he and Kelli, as Rachel helped you to your feet. Percy kept his eyes on the empousa, crouching to pick up his weapon.

Kelli’s face changed dramatically from terrorising to terror. She screamed a gut-wrenching sound. The voices in the hall grew quiet.

“Somebody!” She yelled with fake fear. “Help me!”

Only the gods knew what it looked like to mortals. The band room door swung open, and teachers flooded in, students standing in the hall with gaping mouths. Percy, sword in his hand pointed at Kelli, who at this point had tears streaming down her face.

Paul Blofis shook his head and held his hand out to Percy. “Percy…what’s?…”

He dropped his hand ever-so-slightly. And Kelli burst into flames. Waves of the fire spread too quickly across everything, dark plumes of smoke hastily developing. Paul stepped back, ushering the kids away. “What have you done?” He shook his head.

Kids screamed and began to run about like headless chickens. The teachers were screaming for backup through their walkies. Rachel pushed you to Percy.

“Go!” She yelled. “You’ve got to leave before they send backup. Go!”

Percy escaped through the open band room window, sprinting away through an alley. You had no choice but to follow him. Already, sirens were getting closer. You dove into the nearest cab, whose driver didn’t even question where you came from. Percy breathed deeply as he spouted the address of Half-Blood Hill, Long Island.

Percy’s side door flung open just before the car could leave, revealing the disheveled-looking Rachel Dare. She thrust a piece of paper in Percy’s hands.

“I need to know more. About all of this. About what’s happening. Call me. Now go, I’ll deal with this.”

She slammed the door shut. You blinked at Percy, collapsing into the seat.

“Well. That was a terrible idea.”

taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @rottenstyx @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl @tojismassivemantiddies @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138 @i-love-books-and-the-bible @obxstiles @mxltifxnd0m @cxcilla

#capsize #percy jackson #pjo #asks #leo valdez #annabeth chase #jason grace #nico di angelo #anon #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #disney #rick riordan

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disasterarea-podcast · 1 year

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So given the writer’s strike, some people are concerned about their shows and movies being postponed or canceled, and aside from the fact networks have already BEEN canceling shows for no reason for years (I still maintain a healthy anger about what Netflix did to Sense8), I thought I would suggest some books on disasters you might want to read if you’re into that sort of history. Which you are if you’re here, I imagine.

Note: I’m suggesting these books because most books on disasters don’t get a huge audience, and so I recommend them because this sort of writing can be hard on the writer and requires a bunch of research. We throw so much money at true crime, we can spare a few bucks for the stories of people who died in disasters.

Also, please check with these with your local small bookstore or library. Amazon can be great, but let’s lend a hand to those who need us more.

Recommended books:

“The Circus Fire,” by Stewart O’Nan - This is one my favorite books on a disaster, because the whole thing creates a very vivid image of the circus prior to the fire in Hartford in July of 1944. There’s one specific line in the book which always makes me pause because it’s so affecting, about how everyone who escaped being able to hear the sounds of the animals screaming as they died - except all of the animals were out of the tent by then.

“The Only Plane in the Sky,” by Garrett Graff - This, I highly recommend you get on audiobook. It’s an oral history of the events of 9/11 with a full cast, and it’s incredibly affecting to listen to.

“Ada Blackjack: A True Story of Survival in the Arctic,” by Jennifer Niven - Ada Blackjack was a badass: flawed and weak at times, but hardy and steady when necessary. Half of her story is how she survived, but half is how she was exploited following her rescue. Both stories need to be known.

“Alive,” by Piers Paul Read - If you’re watching “Yellowjackets,” this should be required reading. If you’ve seen the movie adaptation from the 90s, there is WAY more you don’t know. The story of Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571 is a tough read, but a worthy one.

“A Night to Remember,” by Walter Lord - This is to disaster nonfiction what “In Cold Blood” is to true crime. It’s not a long read, but it’s a great one. Lord had the advantage of writing the book while many of the Titanic survivors were still alive and could give a very good description of what they went through.

“Dying to Cross,” by Jorge Ramos - I recommend this not just because it is good, but because it is timely. Nineteen people died in an un-air-conditioned truck as they were attempting to make their way into the states from over the Mexican border. It’s a horrific story, and one that humanizes an issue for whom some people need to be faced with the humans involved and what they go through.

“Bath Massacre: America’s First School Bombing,” by Arnie Bernstein - Harold Schecter also wrote a very good book on the Bath school massacre called “Maniac,” but I have a preference for this version. It’s a good reminder that schools in the U.S. didn’t just become targets in the last twenty years or so.

“Into Thin Air,” by Jon Krakauer - I feel like this is a gimme, but it’s a fantastic book from someone who was actually on Mount Everest during the 1996 disaster and knew those involved very well. I happen to like Krakauer’s work anyway - I even like “Into the Wild” despite my feelings about McCandless and his legacy - but it’s understandably my favorite.

“And the Band Played On,” by Randy Shilts - The one thing I will say is that Shilts’ treatment of Gaetan Dugas is *rough* to say the least and outright wrong on some points, God knows. But it’s still an amazing book, and if you come out of it not wanting to dig up Reagan and punch him a bunch I’m impressed at your restraint.

“Triangle: The Fire That Changed America,” by David von Drehle - The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire is one of the disasters I am most interested in, and I would argue this is the definitive book on the subject. Also, if this book introduces you to both Clara Lemlich and Frances Perkins … I mean, talk about badass women.

“The Radium Girls,” by Kate Moore - Look, I’ll say this. If you know of the Radium Girls, this is a great book on their story. If you don’t know, go in blind and prepared to be horrified.

“Red Famine: Stalin’s War on Ukraine,” by Anne Applebaum - Ukraine has always been a target. During the Holodomor, they were victims of one of the worst genocides in history.

“Midnight in Chernobyl,” by Adam Higginbotham - Like the miniseries? This is a great source for more information for what happened at Chernobyl and all of the ass-covering involved.

"Boston Strong: A City's Triumph Over Tragedy," by Casey Sherman and Dave Wedge - If you’re interested in the Boston marathon bombing, I really thought this book did a good job of connecting the stories of the victims, the authorities searching for the killers, and the killers themselves.

“Show Me the Bodies: How We Let Grenfell Tower,” by Peter Apps - As I understand it, Apps did a lot of covering the Grenfell Tower fire for the British press, and it shows. He provides a mountain of information, and you will come out of reading this book absolutely LIVID about what authorities allowed to happen in Grenfell and so many other council estates in the UK.

“Dark Tide: The Great Molasses Flood of 1919,” by Stephen Puleo - I feel as though the molasses flood gets treated like a joke a lot of the time, but y’all, twenty people died. That area of Boston was *wrecked*. The photos of the devastation are terrifying. Puleo treats all of this with the proper respect it deserves.

“In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex,” by Nathaniel Philbrick - Forget the movie. Read the book.

“The Great Influenza,” by John M. Barry - Want to read about the 1918 flu epidemic? Want to be mad that a hundred years later we didn’t learn a damn thing?

Now, that’s just a start. If anyone wants, I can always post photos of my disaster book collection on Kindle and next to my recording desk. Or if there’s a specific disaster you’re interested in, I may know of a good book about it you can read.

But just remember if SAG and the directors’ guild joins the strike too - there is so much out there to occupy your time until they come back. Entertainment work is work, and it deserves to be supported financially and fairly as such. Rock on, WGA. ✊

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thegeneticopera · 8 months

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after seeing many misconceptions on the ages of the characters and also the general lack of knowledge on relevant key events, I thought I'd create a timeline!

A comprehensive breakdown of important dates in Repo! The Genetic Opera:

1993: Rotti Largo was born (July 14th)

2006: On April 5th, the first ever death for NOS (Neuro-Overstimulation Syndrome) was recorded. GeneCo was then founded later that month in Milan, Italy by Giuseppe Largo and Dr. Michael Whatley who eventually discovered a treatment using an experimental drug called Zydrate and genetic manipulation.

2011: Marni was born (No date)

2016: Nathan was born (No date)

2017: Blind Mag was born (July 5th)

2019: Luigi Largo was born (November 20th)

2024: Pavi Largo was born (September 29th)

2025: By this point, The Genetic Opera, an interactive TV show, was sponsored by GeneCo to promote designer organs and keep the public "status-conscious" in order to continue boosting profits.

2032: Carmela Largo/Amber Sweet was born (August 23rd)

2035: Graverobber was born (No date)

2036: Marni brings Mag to meet Rotti Largo

2039: Shilo Wallace was born (August 27th), Marni Wallace dies, Nathan becomes a repo man

2040: Mag's eye transplants (March 21st)

2048: Blind Mag's Corpus Crusade tour

2053: Tao of Mag, a charity concert event held for blindness

2056: Rotti signs his last will and testament, declaring Shilo as the sole heir of his estate (August 7th). The events of the film take place on November 7th - Nathan, Rotti, and Mag die. Shilo presumably goes missing. Amber takes over GeneCo at a later unspecified date.

Some common misconceptions cleared up by the timeline:

Mag did not receive her eyes at 19, the date listed on her repossession chart says otherwise

Marni and Mag have a relatively large age gap. At the time in which Marni brought Mag to meet Rotti, she was already 25, and Mag was only 19. I personally like to think that Marni was a singing mentor of some sort (since in Chase the Morning we see that Mag has a memory of Marni singing), and perhaps worked with disabled people and this is how they met!

The age difference between Shilo and Graves is only 4 years!

Mag and Luigi only have a two year age difference. Her being under GeneCo's thumb since she was 19 and Luigi was 17 is probably why they have a relationship.

On that topic, Nathan is only 3 years older than Luigi, there's no way him or Mag could have "baby sat" the Largos as children if they're all approximately the same age (excluding Amber, but considering Nathan had his own daughter to raise and was a repoman and Mag was a world class opera singer I still doubt that would be the case)

This one doesn't have a specific date, but I felt it should be added regardless: Pavi's face disfigurement seemingly happened very recent to events of Repo! We see several times within the film that there are posters and billboards of him with his original face, even in the pictures Rotti has he didn't have the scarring yet. The posters say that GeneCo offering face replacements will be happening in 2057. Pavi was the one in charge of that, and he was stealing faces prior to his scarring (as seen in the pictures). We also know from several sources, including Luigi himself, that Pavi's face happened because of a botched surgery. It's safe to assume this was because of the new face replacement campaign that was being offered, and it was within the last year or two before the events in the film.

#repo! the genetic opera #repo the genetic opera #r!tgo #rtgo #mod luigi #blind mag #luigi largo #pavi largo #amber sweet #shilo wallace #repo graverobber #nathan wallace #timeline

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starsandhughes · 1 year

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Penalty Box— Engagement Edition

SERIES MASTERLIST

the caption is so long so sorry

ps i made the likes and comment numbers all of z’s jersey numbers/numbers associated with him :)

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, _quinnhughes, and 11,469 others

yourusername “does the sun promise to shine? no, but it will, even behind the darkest clouds it will. and no promise will make it shine longer or brighter, for that is its fate, to burn until it can burn no more. so, to love you is not my promise, it is my fate, to burn for you until i can burn no more.” (atticus)

trevor zegras, you are my everything; and soon, you will be my husband. i remember our first (real) kiss like it happened yesterday; it was march 16th, 2018, after our first date. it was spring break, and we were all at home together. just a few days prior i learned that you had talked to quinn to get permission to ask me out. i said yes, and we snuck out in the middle of the night to not be disturbed or questioned by the entire house. there was a park about a ten minute walk from the house, and you had this giant backpack on with secret “date supplies.” you had my hide in the playground and made me swear to not look at what you were doing. you tied a sheet to two poles of the sitting area and set up a mini projector to play X2 specifically because i love the lines “it’s me” “prove it.” “you’re a dick” “okay.” after the movie, you told me to sit on the bench while you cleaned up to “switch up societies standards” and that’s how i knew i wanted to make this work. it’s how i knew i’d do anything to keep you. you grabbed my hand before we walked through the front door of the house to stop me, and that’s when you kissed me. i thought it was magic. turns out, everything you do is magic.

the only thing that comes close to that, is the day we first told each other “i love you.” it was july 4th, 2018, just shy of our four month anniversary. i had been building up to say it, post a very long phone call with quinn a few nights before (i later learned you had one, too) but i hadn’t found the right time. i wanted the right time to appear for me and not pressure myself into planning on when to say it. some of the boys’s younger cousins were around the house for the fourth of july party, and my not-so-secret favorite cousin at a strong willed four years old proclaimed that she wanted to guess who my boyfriend was— you or cole. the three of us were being very cuddly on the couch and it clearly confused the poor child, but because we’re us, we ran with it. she started out strong with wanted me to kiss both of you. i was unsure, but the two of you conspired behind my back and decided that both of you kissing me was completely acceptable! while i was trying to figure out how to politely tell her that i will not be kissing one of my boyfriend’s best friends, i was grabbed from behind, spun, dipped, and kissed. i was shocked, to say the least, and my eyes practically bulged out of my head when i opened my eyes and saw it was cole who just put on a show for her! she was very giddy at this, and it had already been done, so i smiled and asked, “how are you planning to top that, zegras?” for those wondering, the room was very confused. my cousin quickly told everyone that she was guessing who was my boyfriend, and suddenly everyone wanted to watch the show. you grabbed my hand, kissed it, and said, “if i was your boyfriend, i’d know you don’t like to put on a show. so i’d cup your face, and pull you in slow.” i smiled into the kiss and this made her even more giddy. however, she was not satisfied with this, and stepped it up a notch by telling us that her next task was for us to tell each other i love you. i was stunned to silence. i’d been waiting for my moment to arise and here it was. but i didn’t want my first time saying it to you to be in front of everybody. you, on the other hand, so it loud and proud. my head snapped from you to quinn, who was trying to hide a smile behind his hand. i asked you if you were saying that for me or for the kid. you told me you were saying it to me, and told me “i love you” again. i smiled so wide it hurt as i took your hand and ran to the garage. the second the door closed i grabbed you to kiss you again. i looked into your eyes, your terrified eyes, and said “i love you.” cheers were heard behind the door, because our friends are the nosiest people i’ve ever met.

i say “i love you, always,” and you say “i love you, forever,” because in taylor’s song “forever and always” she sings “you didn’t mean it, baby.” and when we say it, we do mean it, so we switched it around. soon, we’ll be legally obligated to love each other always and forever! i pinky promise to be a good wife, and i can’t wait to see how hot you look in a non game day suit. i can’t wait to sit and pick color schemes, a band, force everyone to give speeches, and buy new shoes! most of all, i can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you, always, z❤️

tagged trevorzegras

view all 5,313 comments

trevorzegras i’m in the playoffs with you now, my love❤️ can’t wait to win the stanley cup! i love you, forever, y/n/n

yourusername god i’m so in love with you

trevorzegras i fall more in love with you every day

yourusuername if we aren’t careful we’ll take up all the love in the universe

trevorzegras i hope we do. love belongs to us❤️

_quinnhughes seeing you two progress over the years has truly been amazing. i’m beyond happy for you two, and i’d give my blessing again and again. i can’t wait to walk you down the aisle! i love you, sissy, and congratulations❤️

yourusername i can’t imagine anyone else better for the job❤️ i love you so much, quintin!

trevorzegras thank you for everything, hughesy!

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras as long as you keep her happy, i’ll be here for whatever you two need

jackhughes that applies to all of us

lhughes_06 it does

trevorzegras you saps <3

user9 i’m sobbing my eyes out! congratulations future mr. and mrs. zegras!

anaheimducks congratulations! the ducks family is beyond happy for the two of you!

jamie.drysdale congratulations, my favorite unhinged couple! guess it’s time we take our rings off, eh?

yourusername mine’s already off <3

jamie.drysdale mine came off the second after the final buzzer of the last game <3

yourusername I WAS WONDERING ABOUT THAT

jamie.drysdale well i couldn’t have our ring on on the day my best friend was going to propose, now could i?

trevorzegras you’re a real one, jimbo

user46 MY PARENTS ARE ENGAGED😭

colecaufield the day z facetimed me to help him pick your ring, i was useless and told him to call quinn. but i will NOT be a useless groomsman 🫡

yourusername actually…

colecaufield ACTUALLY?!?!

trevorzegras we couldn’t decide who gets you

yourusername soooo will you officiate us?

colecaufield i would be incredibly honored!

yourusername don’t mention the kissing

trevorzegras @/yourusername everybody was there it’s a little late for that

jackhughes very late

_quinnhughes very, very late

user11 z truly went all out with this proposal and i’m obsessed with it! congratulations!

jackhughes i pressured z into asking you out, but this was all him. i’m beyond happy for the two of you! welcome to the family, z! i love you, sissy❤️(and z)

yourusername i love you, too, jacky boy <3 thanks for threatening z with a fork if he didn’t ask me out post quinny’s permission!

jackhughes anytime!

trevorzegras welcome to the groomsman club! (love you, too)

user13 if i don’t get a love like this, i don’t want it. congratulations!

user22 remember when z called y/n his stanley cup? yeah, i’m crying more over this than i did over that

elblue6 welcome to the family @/trevorzegras! congratulations on your engagement! i love you both so much!

yourusername i love you, too, mom! thank you, for everything! i wouldn’t have met trevor when i did if you didn’t take me in❤️

trevorzegras thank you mama hughes! i love you, too!

edwards.73 so happy for you two! @/trevorzegras treat my mom right! she deserves only the best!

trevorzegras yes, sir

yourusername i love you, ethan! welcome to the bride’s club <3

edwards.73 @/yourusername i love you, too! i can’t wait!

lhughes_06 @/yourusername why does he get to be in the bride’s club and not me?!

yourusername @/lhughes_06 you’re actually the biggest debate yet and we have not placed you

lhughes_06 aww you two love me!

trevorzegras @/yourusername you can have him

user53 the caption? wrecked me. i’m sobbing.

lhughes_06 besides my parents, you two have always been the best couple i know and i’m so glad i grew up watching you guys fall in love! congratulations! love you both!

yourusername i’ll forever cherish you having “the talk” with z after you walked in on us making out <3 i love you, lukey moosey!

trevorzegras @/yourusername i hope you know all three of them and jamie had talks with me after i talked to quinn about proposing to you

yourusername @/trevorzegras you talked to quinn about proposing to me?🥹

_quinnhughes @/yourusername he asked my permission to ask you out and it turned out to be the best thing in his life. he wanted it again to “turn the best thing into the greatest thing”

yourusername i’ll cry right now

trevorzegras update: she’s under my shirt

lhughes_06 sounds about right

user01 y/n and z have the most secure relationship known to man. he had cole kiss her? he doesn’t get mad when she’s attached to quinn? she had rings with his best friend? they’re a fever dream

colemcward congratulations, mom! you’ll make a beautiful bride!

yourusername thank you, favorite child! you’re too sweet for this world ugh i love you!

colemcward i love you, too!

_eliaspettersson congratulations! if you’re happy, i’m happy

yourusername i’m beyond happy❤️

trevorzegras thank you!

user19 i didn’t know that was why you two say always and forever! love my favorite swiftie couple!

_alexturcotte congratulations you two! as someone who was cheering on the other side of the door after you said i love you, getting that facetime of you showing me the ring definitely beats that. i love you two so much!

yourusername i love you, too, turc! sorry you’re in the groomsman club <3

trevorzegras @/yourusername rude

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras she’s the bride! she does nothing wrong, ever

_quinnhughes agreed

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras i’m giving you my wife! apologize!

trevorzegras you’re all right. i apologize.

yourusername @/trevorzegras i love you, always :)

trevorzegras @/yourusername i love you, forever

tterry19 so happy for the two of you!

yourusername thank you, dad! i love you loads!

tterry19 love you, too!

trevorzegras thank you! love you, too, t!

user65 i’m so obsessed with this relationship

dylanduke25 you two have always been my favorite couple! congratulations! i love you (can i say it?)!

yourusername yes

dylanduke25 I LOVE YOU, SISSY❤️❤️❤️

yourusername i love you, too, duker😂

trevorzegras thanks, man!

trevorzegras with all the love in your comment section, i feel the need to say i love you more than anything else in the world. the plan was always to propose to you at the end of the season, and the world decided that was sooner rather than later. turns out, that was a really great thing❤️ i already love you forever, and soon i get to love you legally!

yourusername you’ll be my favorite tax deduction!

trevorzegras now THAT’S the highest honor, my love

_quinnhughes, _alexturcotte, dylanduke25, _eliaspettersson, lhughes_06, and others added this to their story

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kalkaros-is-the-boss · 4 months

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So I made recently a post on my main (hannaxjo) about the ages of the marauders era characters in the movies, which led to me creating this side account. But I should’ve known better than to think about their canon ages in the books, because I noticed something that doesn’t make sense to me, and I can’t stop thinking about it. That is the timeline between Severus hearing the prophecy and Voldemort killing James and Lily. What the fuck happened between that?

So, in the prophecy is this line: the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies. Meaning, that at that time, Harry has not been born yet. Which means, at the very least over a year is going to play out before that Halloween.

And that does not make sense to me. How can it take over a year, after this? In that (unspecific) time, the following things happen; Voldemort decides that the prophecy is talking about the Potter’s baby. Severus deflects, and begins spying on Voldemort. Due to Severus’ warning, Potter’s go into hiding. Dumbledore suggests a fidelius charm. Instead of Sirius, Peter is made into the secret keeper. Peter reveals the location to Voldemort and Voldemort kills Lily and James.

These things happen like a domino. There cannot be that much time between each of these actions. Severus isn’t going to wait around to defect once he knows Voldemort is targeting the Potter, because Voldemort is definitely not going to wait around to kill them. And I don’t think it took over a year for Voldemort to decide who the prophecy was talking about. Isn’t he supposed to be smart? Like I can buy him only deciding after Harry’d been born, but it still takes over a year after that for him to kill James and Lily.

But okay, let's say Voldemort was just really slow, and couldn’t make his mind. That would make the time between Severus’ deflection and the death of Lily and James incredibly short, and that makes no sense either. Because I don’t see Dumbledore trusting Severus after such a short while. And when would he then have had the time to spy on Voldemort? In the Goblet of Fire, when Harry goes into the pencieve he sees the trial of Karkaroff. And he lists the names of Death Eaters, one of those names being Severus Snape. Dumbledore then says, that he himself has witnessed for Severus’, and he tells that Snape joined them prior to Voldemorts downfall and that he risked his life spying on him. That means that Severus had to be a spy for at least a while.

So what the hell was happening while Severus was spying? Did they not use the fidelius as fast as possible? How did Voldemort not find them? See it would make sense if Sirius was the secret keeper for a while, and then they switched it, but Sirius was never the secret keeper. So did Peter actually keep the secret for months? Because that also seems unlikely. Then, there’s the letter Lily wrote to Sirius that Harry finds in Deathly Hallows. In that letter Lily mentions that ‘James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here’, so they must be already hiding. And they must be already under the fidelius because they must be in Godric’s Hollow because why else would Bathilda have visited. She also mentions that Wormy had seemed down, which I assumed was actually because he is going to/has betrayed them. That letter was about Harry’s one-year birthday! It was written in July/beginning of August. Voldemort didn’t attack until Halloween. What happened? Did Peter not betray them until October? Or had he already told Voldemort and Voldy just wasn’t feeling it. Was he waiting until Halloween for aesthetics?

Honestly, I have no point here, except that I don’t understand the timeline. Did I miss something? If you know how this timeline goes, please tell me, because I think about this too much. Istg if I’m gonna end up re-reading the books again just because this bothers me...

#ramblings #harry potter #james potter #lily potter #jkr is trash #plot holes #maybe #someone help #someone sedate me #marauders #severus snape #prophecy harry potter #if i misspelled something that is because i am dumb #hp fandom #hp books #harry potter books

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the-orange-tabby-cat · 13 days

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The Renegade

joel miller x fem!reader

Summary of the fic: This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean. You are my only hope, The renegade - Your parents ask you to try seeing a therapist, Tess, and you agree under one condition: she can't let you fall in love with Joel Miller. A fic in the format of letters, from you to Tess. 🐾

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CW/tags: Explict +18, no outbreak AU, slow burn, fluff, smut, kinda loser reader? lol, implied age gap, coming of age, no use of y/n

Word count of the prologue + chapter 1: 6,4k

A/N: This will be a quick fic, I promise! I needed to take it off my head, it was clogging everything else at this point lol I really wanted an anti-hero protagonist instead of the usual good girls I write. She is messy and adorable at the same time, I'm really proud of how the story is taking shape! Hope you like it!

PROLOGUE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

You said I could write you in any format as long I’m true to what I’m putting out. That’s some therapist bullshit, but since it’s you reading this mess, I will let it slide. I thought a lot about what to write down for you, not the usual overthinking, more of a “where do I begin?”. Remember, you were the one who told me to write this if I can’t say out loud what it is inside my head while we are in session. This shit is hard, okay?

Let me start by being the smartpants I used to be: the human brain processes a thought faster than one meter per second. If I put together all the meters my brain ran while getting bad ideas, I could now cross the Atlantic Ocean.

Do you remember when you were a kid and your parents told you to avoid certain people? That strange feeling you get when you see a trainwreck of a person, the one that didn’t exactly do something bad, they just are stuck somewhere out of this reality and you think to yourself “I would never get in that position”?

I did get in that position. I’m stuck in that somewhere. For years now.

Wish I could tell you that something horrible happened to me when I was younger, that my mother crushed all my dreams and my dad left one day to buy a pack of cigarettes. What about a strict family or an over-the-top religious one where I’m one of ten kids? Not even close to the truth, I’m an only daughter.

Middle middle class: enough money to live more than comfortably, far from the luscious lifestyle of the riches. I grew up knowing money didn’t come from the trees, I touched some grass, okay? The only thing expected by my kinda-aristocrat parents was that I would achieve academic success prior to a life full of achievements.

Chess competitions, spelling bee trophies (if I make a mistake a few pages down, it’s been a while since it), debate club captain, swimming team… You name it and I did. At seventeen I was voted as “most likely to be successful” and second place for homecoming queen because slutty Katie gave the basketball team a sloppy blowjob after practice. I had a first kiss and gave one bad handjob under the bleachers by that age.

Then university came and nobody, no fucking body, got wowed when I got an Ivy League on my first try. My head was too shoved up my ass to notice life around me. I wasn’t a pretty girl anymore because girls in my class were prettier than me, wasn’t the smartest since I wasn’t a teacher’s pet by just existing.

My classmates didn’t care for me because I had no clue about social etiquette: what alcohol is acceptable to bring to a frat party? How do you pick up guys and let them suck on your tongue? Do you stay inside your dorm room when your roommate is fucking or do you wait outside?

I could do it with being the awkward girl, but not with being less than perfect. By the second semester, I was crying every day in the shower and realized I had no friends, just people who had the same interests as me back home. I tried so hard to become the number one in my class that life became hell the second my teacher gave me a lower score on a significant test.

I left her class and instead of crying, calling my parents to vent, or any other shit, I walked by the first frat house I saw and decided to lose my v card there with any guy that looked remotely cute.

Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be a slut if I hadn’t had a penis inside me yet, but I knew that something was boiling up for years. My hand sneaking under my panties after a tiring day, humping on my pillow whenever I got frustrated, even the shoulder massager I got for after swimming practice humming on my clit did it. All I needed was a chance to forget for a moment the hell that was my life.

And I did. A sand blond guy with a shark smile that would fuck anything that moved in his direction, clearly a rich bitch whose parents got his spot in the university. I walked in his direction and took my panties off, put them in his hand, and the next thing I saw he was deep inside of me while I hopped him vigorously.

I cummed so hard that I think saw Jesus, whatever he might be. Not that the guy made me cum, I had an itch for so long that any scratch would do it. Any. After coming down my high it was clear in my mind: I would do anything that I didn’t do before.

Drink until pass out, rob beer from the liquor store, fuck my roommate's hot dad, cheat on a test. Nothing was out of limits. Well, I still had to finish university and never use drugs because that was a hard no for me.

You see, Tess, I’m so good at keeping my promises to other people and ignoring my own needs that I did finish university. Graduated with an honor badge and everything, my parents' wet dream. Expect they no longer knew me and had no clue that I spent four years whoring myself and doing everything to ignore who I used to be.

And this is why on my first day in a big company, a trainee job earned right after college, I vomited inside the bathroom stall during onboarding. A panic attack a week later when my leader delegated some tasks. You give me a few months and my mind went blank the second I started a presentation to the c level board. I ran so fast outside that I fell on the sidewalk, got up, called for a cab, and never came back.

It’s been years since it.

My parents came to you because they still have some hope. I don’t, I think they are being dumb. Yes, I have an Ivy League degree, a bunch of useless skills (except for Mandarin, I can read so fast the menu at a Chinese restaurant) but nothing to do with when I WON’T come back to who I used to be. Do you think I sound miserable now? I’m miserable but I’m free in my kitchenette downtown, with my band t-shirts and two jobs. Living the dream.

Of course I’m fucking lying to you. I hate my life because the bitch running it is so dumb (that’s me, by the way).

It used to be kinda cool. The day I ran from the office was the same day I went straight to the arcade and played Mortal Kombat II so much that I broke the machine’s record. I went there for a full week before the manager, an emo guy looking like a teenager, decided to hire me.

It wasn’t enough to pay for my fancy downtown apartment, the one that got furniture that didn’t come from IKEA, so I had to move to the shithole I’m now. A mini studio in a building so old that if the city trembles, I’m sure that I will be turning into dust.

Years in this life, day after day, and I wasn’t mad about it. I was free, after all. It took about two years for my parents to find out that I wasn’t the prodigious child anymore and they took better than I expected. My mom cried, cursed my name, and asked if someone hurt me but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was the one who caused it.

Anyway, you already know this stuff. They told you their side of the story when letting you know that I would be your new patient. What exactly have they told you? About how I never introduced them to a guy and my dad had a very straightforward conversation with me about why lesbians were cool and he would accept me if I was one? Maybe they told you about how I got so drunk one Christmas that end up peeing on the petunias in the neighbor’s yard and my mom thought it was a good idea to tell them I was heavily sedated from a fear of flying? Nobody said it was easy to be an only child.

What you don’t know is that I have a love life, you are welcome. For years I’ve been sleeping around with a married man. I know, I know, shocking! Scandalous! His name is Peter and he is dumb as a door. But the dick is good and he sometimes treats me like a real person. I met him at a bar, gave him a blowjob in the back alley (Katie would be proud) and we see each other every week since.

Remember when I said my family isn’t religious? Thank god because that’s not everything. I have a boyfriend, a real one. It was a scorching day, the AC wasn’t working and I had to put the neckline out a bit before becoming a puddle. That’s when I see him, playing with his friends, having fun, being so fucking broad and handsome… I had to taste it.

Flirted a bit and boom, got him at the back door pumping deep inside of me while I was sitting on a desk. He was amazing, he was making me gooey to the point of screaming in pleasure. Too good to be true, when he was about to come I saw the little golden cross pending from his neck.

The next day he came back, told me how sorry he was, and asked me for an opportunity to show me how good he could be. I thought he wanted a second round, but nope, he wanted me to meet Jesus. I’m a people pleaser, Tess. It has been four months since I’m Mormon Isaac’s girlfriend. Every Sunday I attend the mess, his family knows me and I haven’t slept with him since that first day. It marks also the four months I’m trying to break up with him.

You must think that I ain’t a good person and you are right, I’m not. Not the worst, but for sure not a fucking saint. I don’t come back in my decisions, anyone else with less brain would, but not me. I’m stubborn and deal with the hell I made of my own life. Or used to, because now I’m head over heels for this guy, Tess.

Joel Miller. The stupid hunk who is older, wiser, and hot. Who I can’t stop thinking about since we met. Damn his pretty brown eyes and how they look into my soul. I’m a mess and I need some help dealing with it before he gets into my trap and I destroy him.

This is why I’m writing to you, Tess. Do you see how much trouble am I? How unstable and not anywhere good for him? I can’t fall in love with him and he can’t get closer, I’m a weak bitch: I’m gonna fall for him if you don’t help me. I walked too many meters of bad decisions before, I can’t cross another ocean.

You are my only hope,

The renegade

P.S. I won’t pay you shit, hope my parents paid you enough for this.

CHAPTER ONE

Austin, July 2024

Dear Tess,

Yes, I'm doing well, thank you for your concern, guess the rambling in my last letter got you worried about me. It’s a skill, I’m very good at making people worry. I'm marvelous, splendid, and well, fucked. By our last session, you asked me more details of how I ended up meeting Joel and I said to you “a lady never tells” and you didn't laugh, tough crowd. Let me paint you a picture then.

There are many regulars at the arcade. The asians dudes that go there after Kumon (been there, done that, I feel so sorry for them), the lone wolves of 40+ that still want to feel young since they can't get any pussy and, my favorites, the after-school reruns.

These little fuckers go there every week to burn some steam from their sugary-inflicted bodies, stay until 4 pm and go straight to their houses, to their mom and dad. I'm not bitter, I just hate teenagers.

I'm aware that it sounds like I'm on the wrong career path since they keep my economy going, but fuck it, teenagers give me the creeps. Except for the queers, they are quite nice. I have a baby lesbian (it’s pretty obvious) that I call 3 pm because she comes by this time twice a week, Ellie.

She is probably fifteen or so and everything I wasn't at her age. Firecracker, bossy with a dirty mouth – did I ever tell you that the first time I said “fuck” in front of my parents was after my meltdown? You can get it. One of the only teenagers I got close to if I'm honest. She came by one afternoon, saw Mortal Kombat II, and hasn't left since.

“Who's The Renegade?” She asked me one time, checking out the scoreboard with disgust. Remember I beat the machine record? She was right after me.

“No clue, try harder.” I teased her thinking she wouldn't care and move on with her life, like people do.

But not Ellie, she tried really hard to break the fucking record. Week after week, I watched her trying her best from my glass display while wearing the ugly bowling striped shirt that is my uniform.

I saw him way before he saw me. Doing my regular afternoon routine, cleaning the games with some rubbing alcohol to avoid the sticky hands infecting everywhere, minding my business under the neon light. All good, until I saw broad shoulders (I have a type, okay? Sue me) playing the fucking Mortal Kombat II with Ellie by his side.

Broad, so fucking broad. Dark curls with some gray here and there adorning his ears. I must have made some noise because for a second he looked back and that nose? Yeah, that was the end of me.

“You were close, old man,” Ellie teased as the fight on screen got to an end. He glared at her before looking at his score. “Nah, you're full of shit. Not even close to me or The Renegade.”

“Yeah, if I was spending that much time here I would be second place too,” he groaned before gaining full height. That voice gave me chills as I pretended I haven't heard shit, trying to not sneak a look and failing every time.

And that was it, Tess. Not exactly your meet cute, sorry. He came back maybe three or four times, always polite, nothing else. I thought it would be a silent crush, a small one until I got bored. I’m constantly bored.

My second job is a little less orthodox, if you can call my first one that. A girl has to do what she has to to get that bag. On Christmas, I’m the Santa helper with a mini skirt and sweet smiles (you can imagine how many times I picked up bored dads like that), by Easter, I’m your lucky bunny hopping around in white hot pants, when Thanksgiving is around the corner I’m the sluttiest turkey you ever saw.

The mall manager pays me double because I let him once see my boobs and the poor guy is so lonely that he is more than sure that we will sleep together at some point.

“A vest with “can I help you?” tagline? Where is the skanky clothes?” I asked him one Saturday morning, thinking he made a mistake giving me the day costume.

“We’re getting more boomers and older visitors, we need someone to stay in a good floor spot and answer their questions,” he told me in a boring tone, the sadness in his eyes always a classic.

“Okay, if they ask me questions, what do I do? I don’t know shit about this mall except that you can buy powder by the public telephones and shouldn’t use the ladies bathroom on the second floor, that’s where Nora from Chipotle goes and that woman’s ass is rancid.” He furrowed his brows and dragged his hand on his face, taking his time to process what I had just said.

“Just be nice and bring them to someone who will be helpful, maybe a security guard, I don’t know. And don’t use cocaine while on the job, I can’t deal with another junkie here,” he said reinforcing the vest on my hands and urging me to get out of the room.

Now would be a good time to remind you that I don’t use drugs, never did. I might be many things in this life, but not a stoner. Not because I’m prudish or think drugs are bad for you, even if they are. I’m way too afraid about getting hooked once I realize that the play-pretend reality that they induce in your brain is better than this one. I’m self-destructive, but not stupid.

So there I was, in my lime neon vest, above a small platform with a big dark blue “information” written. Thinking about anything you can imagine, my shift lasts six hours and I can’t sit down, just a fifteen-minute bathroom break. One of my worst nightmares is to be alone with the dumb bitch inside my head, that’s why I hate silence.

When was the last time you went to a mall? They used to be a big deal in my younger days, but now they are dead. It’s so fucking slow, just little packs of people here and there. Not even music playing to alleviate the tension between me and my stupid brain.

“Miss?” A small voice called, I looked to the sides and saw nobody, so they insisted. “Miss?”

I looked down on the platform and to my surprise, a toddler with big brown eyes and curly hair was calling me. Hesitating for a second, I climbed down my platform and crouched to get my eyes the same height as his, I read once that kids get more comfortable like that.

“Hm, yeah?” I asked unsure of how one talks with kids, shouldn’t he be there with an adult?

“I can’t find my uncle,” the poor kid was on the verge of tears, making me panic.

“Okay, let’s find him,” I said with very little confidence, unsure how to approach it.

Before I could think about what I would do, his hand found a place in mine, holding me like an anchor. I decided to go to the nearest security guard and hope for the best, one thing was to be a failure by myself and another was to fail a little kid.

We walked for about five minutes, the fucking mall had a small amount of guards. No fucking clue why nobody comes down there. The kid got a little tired of walking and held up his little arms, asking to be picked up.

I accepted it, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. Thinking about it now, as I write this to you, I can’t remember the last time somebody hugged me. We might need to talk about it in session.

“You tell me if you see him, okay? What does your uncle look like?” I asked still walking down the corridor, searching for the damn guard.

“Big, fluffy hair,” I laughed at how wholeheartedly the kid tried to answer it.

“Blue eyes? Dark hair?” He shook his head for the first one but nodded at the second.

Changing corridor, I saw from afar a big guy and a smaller figure talking with a guard and figured out it was the kid’s uncle. The man seemed agitated, speaking with his hands in the air. As I pressed my steps, the figures got more familiar. Made a signal for the kid, showing them when we were close enough and his face lightened up.

“Uncle Joel!” He shouted happily, as I put him down so he could run to the tall man.

That’s how I found out his name. Simple, discrete, direct. Jo-el. Suits him.

He immediately hugged the boy, kissing the top of his head. Ellie was at the side getting color back on her face, unshed tears in her eyes when she noticed me.

“I know you,” she started and I panicked a little. I don’t know why, I wasn’t doing anything weird, but something about breaking their bubble made me uncomfortable.

Joel looked up from his nephew’s face and furrowed his brows, not in a “who the fuck are you?” kinda way, more of a “wait, I do know you too”.

“Hm, yeah, I work at the arcade down the block,” I said in a monotone, looking into Ellie’s eyes, ignoring Joel’s.

“Are you safe? All good?” Joel asked in a soft tone, much softer than I imagined a man like him could do, to the kid.

“Yes,” the toddler replied searching for my hand again. My eyes got to the size of the moon, unaware of how to react.

“Thank you for helping him, we were about to lose our heads searching for him everywhere.” Joel gave me puppy eyes in his dearest manners and every inch of my body heated as he got up, gaining his tall size.

A grown, big man being soft on the edges? The hottest thing I’ve seen and I fucked once Mormon Isaac.

I was ready to get back to my platform when Ellie shared stares with Joel, a language I hadn’t properly been introduced to in my formal education, but I think I can decipher:

Ellie looking straight, then bringing her eyebrows up - say something, Joel

Joel furrowing his heavy eyebrows and pouting a little, before looking towards the exit - no, let’s go home

Ellie rolling eyes and siding it in my direction real quick - she is right here, do something

Joel setting his jaw and looking directly at Ellie - I said no, let’s go home

Ellie narrowing her eyes and then nodding to the toddler - how did we got him back?

Joel glancing at his nephew, Ellie, and me before pouting a little bigger - okay, fine, you’re so annoying

Mind you I’m not a linguist in any way, I might have translated something wrong since I’m not fluent and the whole scene lasted no more than two seconds. I was highly confused when he put his hand on the toddler’s shoulder (mind you, who was still holding my hand) and cleared his throat.

“Are you hungry? It would be a pleasure having you with us,” he proposed in his most southern polite voice. I laughed a little, stupid bitch.

“That’s not… Necessary. Really. It’s okay!” I replied quickly, awkwardly trying to walk back. The kid’s hand grip got stronger.

“C’mon, stay. It’s the minimum I can do,” Joel insisted with another puppy eye.

“I used to g-get lost too, in the mall, you know? It’s okay! It’s just a full circle moment, but thank you!” I lied.

I was a prodigious child, way too smart for my age, and for sure not roaming around in a suburban mall. My parents weren’t strict, but they had a very clear vision of what was cool and what was trashy. Read in my room, go to museums and cinema exhibitions of foreign movies that I was able to watch without the subtitles? Hot and cool. Go to the mall, watch blockbuster movies, and eat a burger at the food court? Suburban and trashy. I got lost once at a library, though.

“He won’t stop giving you the puppy eye until you accept, c’mon,” Ellie replied gaining a double glare from me and Joel, who – in all truth – was still giving me puppy eyes.

“Some pizza wouldn’t hurt,” I said with an awkward lopsided smile.

The duo stared at each other again, now that I had more familiarity with the language I think I can get better translations:

Ellie shotting up her eyebrows and inclining her head towards the front of her body - told ya, old man

Joel sighing before eyeing the food court direction - lead the way, brat

“Let’s go, Luke,” Ellie grabbed the kid’s hand from mine and started to walk.

“One sec,” I said before taking off my vest and placing it in the security guard’s hand, who looked at me puzzled. I would find a way out of trouble with the manager later on. “Okay, all good!”

“So… The arcade and the mall, you must be good with teenagers,” Joel started nodding in Ellie’s direction. He said in such a genuine matter that it took me back, not a single harsh reply in my brain.

“Not really, it’s more of a coincidence. I try to avoid them a little, though. They could shatter me with one comment.” I laughed a little, trying to break the awkwardness between us. He smirked a bit.

“I get it, Ellie likes to remind me that I’m no longer hip. Do people still use this word?” He asked chewing his cheek and I chuckled.

“I’m not sure. Maybe no? We are very much 20th-century material,” he smiled.

Do I like to think it was because I hinted that I was old enough to drink, so old enough to fuck him? Yes. But I regretted it the moment that thought appeared in my head.

Don’t get me wrong Tess, even if I’m a slut I wasn’t trying to fuck Joel Miller when we got alone. It’s more of an old habit, a second skin. When I got the conclusion men were little needy bitches, I got laid often.

You pretend to be stupid and praise them on their big brain. Maybe they prefer it when you are a hopeless girl who needs a strong man to solve something that your small body can’t. Or, the classic, they just want a shy girl who has no idea of how pretty she is and is more than grateful that he is there to show her.

Men are simple creatures. The more you make yourself smaller and dumber, the more they want you. Nobody wants an opinionated woman who knows her worth, that isn’t sexy. It’s a sin being a woman who is not sexy all the time.

Something inside of me knew Joel wasn’t trying to pick me up. He was just an older guy with a life set and a family of his own, he wanted to be nice to the girl who helped his nephew.

“Your nephew is a sweet kid, very affectionate,” I said in a genuine tone, trying to clear a bit of my head.

“A good kid too, smart for his age. He will be three in a couple of days,” Joel's face lightened up talking about the toddler. I wondered if someone’s face ever got so bright thinking of me.

“Growing up fast?” I asked trying to keep up, I don’t much about raising kids except that parents feel like everything is way too fast.

“Yes, but there is a long way until he becomes a petulant teenager like Ellie,” he joked with tenderness.

“She is cool, just the right amount of sassy in her bones. Her friends too, they are well-behaved down the arcade,” I said thinking about the times I saw her with other weird teenagers there.

“Really? Good to know her friends treat her well, she needs that,” he replied quickly. I lost him for a second and couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“Why?” Could I sugarcoat my curiosity a bit? Of course, but my initial awkwardness was opening space for a comfortable conversation and I’m bad at calculating risk.

“We just moved, right before the school year. I’m from Austin, but Ellie no, she is from Boston. We lived there for a few years before moving back. Is tough to be the new kid, you know.”

The soft around the edges came back. I started to wonder how I never noticed Ellie’s accent, but it made sense.

“And why did you come back? Work?” I asked, again, without thinking further. Joel scratched his scruff while pondering how much detail he would give me.

“Boston got too heavy. Bad memories, you know? She needed a fresh start and I was missing the Texas sun.” My eyes searched for a ring on his hand for the first time, but there was nothing to see. Maybe a bad divorce? A widow?

“In that case, welcome home, cowboy,” I said mimicking holding a tip of a cowboy hat to him, who smiled a bit.

When we arrived at the food court, we went straight to the only pizza option available, the fucking Pizza Hut. The mall is shitty, if you haven’t noticed it yet Tess.

Ellie ordered everyone’s pizza as if she were introducing us to a new, exotic cuisine. Joel got amused, looking at her adoringly while petting his nephew's curls. I allowed myself to imagine what if my weekends were filled with this domestic view, if I would be happy to live such a mundane life and got surprised when the response was positive.

“Will you finally tell me who The Renegade is?” Ellie joked with a hint of truth. Joel rolled his eyes in good fun.

“A lady never tells,” I winked at her and Joel grinned with a little laugh. You see Tess, when you make a joke this is how people react, not scribbling something down their therapist's notepad. Rude as fuck.

The pizza could be better, but the company was more than good. I found myself laughing at Ellie’s puns, making comments about the arcade regulars. Joel tried to make me laugh a few times too, like an old friend. I felt good, felt normal instead of the constant weight on my shoulders.

At some point during our little chit-chat, I furrowed my eyebrows.

“How did Luke get lost? You haven’t told me that.” I questioned both of them, Ellie’s cheeks got pink. Joel made a motion for her to speak.

“Joel went inside a store and asked me to wait a little with Luke, to keep an eye on him for a second while he got something. I know,” she looked into his eyes with a guilty stare, “that I must hold Luke’s hand whenever we’re in a public place. I didn’t, started to look into a window shop thinking he was by my side.”

“It’s okay, you were holding tight to his hand on our way here,” Joel assured her.

If that man couldn’t get any hotter, he didn’t hold the weight of her mistakes against her. I swear that I don’t have daddy issues, I might have a Peter Pan syndrome or shit like that, but my dad was quite nice for a stuck-up guy. I’m not comparing dads, I’m comparing how to deal with delicate hearts: in that couple of hours I got to know a little more of them, I saw how Joel didn’t hold Ellie back, tried to shape her into something he wanted. Even inside of my own body I can’t do that with myself, be this level of kind.

I think Joel got me when it crossed my mind that I could fuck up and, maybe, he would still like me. I wouldn’t be a bitch, a bad girl to him. I would be just a person who made a mistake and he would still be there. What if my main kink is to be loved?

He paid for the meal, of course, a southern gentleman. I said goodbye, hinting I would be there when Ellie decided to show up at the arcade and she replied with a “hell yeah”. They left and I sighed, so light as if I had a spa day, but nope, just a good time with nice people. I might be lonely.

In a snap of fingers, I met the mall manager who questioned me why I wasn’t at the platform. The weight of the world came back on my shoulders, I reasoned that I was tired and wanted to go home as fast as possible.

“A kid got lost and I went to help him find his family. I think the slutty outfit might be a better idea next time, this shit is too complex,” I said shrugging before flashing him again with my boobs for a few seconds.

What? I had a nice meal with a good family, but I’m still not a saint.

Anyway, life followed its course. Saw Ellie sometimes at the arcade, Joel would greet me by name whenever he was there to pick her up, all good and normal. I told you, this is not your meet-cute story.

If you are wondering, yes, I saw Mormon Isaac the next day after the missing kid incident. Holy Sunday, couldn’t skip.

I don’t have exactly a wardrobe that screams “SLUT!”, but the vibe isn’t exactly good southern mormon girl. Jesus just wasn’t my thing growing up. My parents were a little paranoid about the christians, we avoided them at all cost. I had to thrift some stuff to attend Sunday preaching with Mormon Isaac.

It was so boring, every single Sunday. Thank God the pastor would scream from time to time on his speech, the only thing waking me up. Mormon Isaac, strangely as it seems, wouldn’t try to grab me a little here and there while we were inside the church.

“Are you okay?” I asked him once when he audibly swallowed when I touched the inside of his thigh when the pastor was speaking, or whatever.

“Yes. Please, not here, sweetheart,” he urged me and I rolled my eyes.

Every. Fucking. Sunday. For. Four. Months. He would only give me a peck after church, always in front of his family, if his parents weren’t making lunch he would drive me home and that’s it.

Sometimes we would do other stuff too. He would take me to the cinema to see a movie, always under PG-13 though. I would try to jack him off and he wouldn’t allow me, I once tried to give him a blowjob and he said he was waiting for the right time. We fucked rough in the staff room and now I was a pervert, make it make some sense.

You can imagine my surprise when, in the middle of an afternoon, Mormon Isaac appeared from nowhere at the arcade.

“Guess whose four-month anniversary is today?” He asked me while holding a box. I have no idea how to pray, but I know that I prayed for every single entity in the sky for a surprise break up as a git.

“Wow, lucky me,” I said with a fake smile. If my job was boring that afternoon, it was about to become much more boring.

From the corner, I saw Ellie picking up her backpack from the floor as I opened the box. A deep voice greeted my name and I got cold.

Mormon Isaac was looking at me like he was the best boyfriend in the whole world. Joel appeared to be curious, getting close to the glass display I call my office.

“I didn’t know you were religious,” he said looking at the bible in my hands. A fucking bible. Damn you, Mormon Isaac.

“She attends the Sunday preach every week,” Mormon Isaac promptly corrected with his most polite smile. I wanted to die.

“Thank you very much, I will cherish it.” I smiled back, looking into Joel’s eyes with a silent rescue request when Mormon Isaac glanced at his phone.

“See you tomorrow-,” he started and I cut it before he could finish that thought.

“For the bible study, yes. It will be a pleasure,” I said faking another smile, Joel looked so confused and amused by the whole situation. Mormon Isaac grinned so hard that I thought he was about to cum in his pants.

“That’s fantastic! I will let my mom know!” He said before grabbing his phone and walking out, leaving me and Joel behind.

I sighed and dropped my head into my arms, right at the bible. Joel's laugh, I sound I grew to adore, echoed and I glanced up from my arms.

“What the hell was that?” He asked in good fun, looking at how distressed I was.

“You do me a favor: never, I said never, open the door for a Jeovah’s witness. I accepted one preach from this mormon customer and now he plays rehab with me,” I said avoiding the fact that the said mormon was my boyfriend on the following day we would meet for a date.

“I will. Do you need an excuse for bible study?” He asked me looking somewhere behind me like he was forming a plan inside his head, both hands on my glass display while Ellie waited.

“Does it involve religion or any kind of cult?” I half-joked. Half because if hot Joel said he wanted me to go to any kind of religious ceremony I would have another panic attack and leave.

Joel looked to Ellie, who looked back at him and both nodded. This time I can’t translate, sorry, I’m still in the process of getting the language's grammatical structure.

“Tomorrow is Luke’s birthday. Surprise party. You don’t want to break the poor’s kid heart, c’mon,” Ellie said faking seriousness. Joel nodded back.

“There will be food?” Ellie confirmed. “Booze?”

“Do you like beer?” Joel asked, also in fake seriousness. Except that his death stare made me fucking wet.

“Pass me your phone so I can give you my number, text me the address,” I turned my palm up to grab the said phone, he smirked and Ellie laughed.

And this, Tess, is how I met Joel, got my little heart full of him just to let him slip into my life. What can I say? I never wanted to save a horse more than the moment he lassoed me.

I think you have more than enough material for our next session already. I will give you that yes, I speak more about what is inside my head like this. I think it might be because it feels strangely similar to submitting a paper, you know how much I love being the teacher’s pet.

Don’t forget: I can’t fall in love with this guy,

The Renegade

P.S. In case it isn’t obvious, I don’t have daddy issues. I DON’T. I know what it looks like, but I don’t have it. Don’t even try.

next chapter

#joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the renegade series

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spacecaravan · 10 months

Text

Birthday Candles

pairing: pre-outbreak joel miller x reader word count: 5.5k 🎂🎈

The sounds of little girls' laughter, music over the stereo and the telltale slashing of a Slip ‘N Slide were all you could hear from inside the Miller’s kitchen.

July in Austin was brutal but, when Sarah asked if she could have friends over for a birthday party Joel couldn’t say no.

How do you say no to a little girl about to turn 11? The answer is, you don’t.

The inability to say no, specifically to Joel Miller, is how you ended up meticulously placing 11 birthday candles on a cake you’d made the day before. A simple two-tiered confection frosted a pretty lilac color that took you too long to get perfect, not that you would ever admit that out loud.

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,”

Joel wasn’t looking at you when he said it, he was too busy eyeing the cake on the counter. He didn't believe you when you told him you’d made it yourself, and stared at you with his jaw practically on the floor when you walked through his front door with it. When he called you to help with Sarah’s party, he’d assumed you'd pick up a simple sheet cake from the grocery store, he never expected you to bring something like this.

“Joel,” you said mixed with a laugh, “for the hundredth time, I really don’t mind,”

You turned to see Joel, his hair a bit damp from helping the girls with the Slip ‘N Slide, white t-shirt the slightest bit translucent thanks to the mischief only young girls can get away with on their birthdays.

“How’s it going out there?” You inquired while peeking around Joel to catch a quick glimpse at the party unfolding in the backyard.

“Good,” he quipped, “thanks to you. I don’t know what I would have done if-“

“Joel, please. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now,” You interrupted him midsentence, already highly aware of what’s coming next. It’s like Joel had been playing on a loop since he initially called to ask you to help with Sarah's birthday party.

The phone call you received three weeks ago was laced with the panic of a man who was acutely aware that he wouldn’t know what to do with twelve 6th-grade girls running around his home. His anxiety was palpable as he babbled on and on about cakes, balloons and birthday outfits.

“She said she wants a special birthday outfit? What does that even mean? Can it be something she already has or does it mean she wants something new?”

You couldn’t help but laugh over the receiver at his plight, this is what would take down Joel Miller, his sweet daughter asking for her first birthday party with friends. On that call you assured him everything would be okay, telling him firmly, “I was born for this task, Miller”

Joel and you had met years prior, a chance run-in at the grocery store where he and Sarah happened to be pushing a cart along in the same aisle as you.

“I really like your hair,” Sarah boldly said to you in the middle of the aisle. Sarah was young then, the type of young that made it possible to complement complete strangers in the grocery store.

You couldn’t help but admire her curly head of hair and sweet demeanor — you also couldn’t help but notice her father, Joel Miller. Whether he knew it or not, he always possessed the ability to take your breath away, even under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the canned goods aisle.

“Thank you,” you responded with a smile, “I really like yours too.” You took a moment to glance over at Joel with a smile gracing your features. “You too, Dad. Nice do.”

The first time you spoke to Joel it was with a wink and a smile that he swore made his heart drop somewhere between the canned soup and the black beans. Clean up on aisle four.

“Could you teach me to do mine like yours?” Sarah continued, running her small hands over her loose locks as she gazed up at your braided hair.

“Sarah, we don’t-“ Joel had started to interject, a bright red flush already beginning to work its way up his neck and onto his cheeks.

“Sure,” you started, “but only if it’s okay with your dad,” You took your eyes off Sarah for a moment to glance over at Joel, silently letting him know you were genuinely okay with this.

Your agreeing to Sarah’s request took him by surprise. “Uh,” he mumbled while reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

The hesitancy was warranted, regardless of how pretty Joel thought you were, you were still a stranger in the grocery store.

“Here’s an idea,” you began while reaching into the bag you had resting in your cart, fishing around in the opening for something before pulling out a pen and a scrap of paper.

“Here’s my name and number,” you said while you scribbled down the series of letters and numbers, “Sarah,” you parroted the name you heard her Dad speak before, “you take this, and if you still want to learn how to braid, ask your Daddy here to give me a ring, okay?”

Daddy. Joel would be lying if he said he didn’t like the sound of it rolling off your tongue.

“That okay with you, Dad?”

“It’s Joel,” the response was terse, almost choked out because he was still focused on the way you calling him daddy made his skin tingle and his mouth water.

“Alright,” you said as the corners of your lips lifted into a grin, “how does that sound, Joel?”

Sarah stared up at her father expectantly, eyes shining up at him in a way you could tell was practiced, this girl knew how to get what she wanted. “Alright, I’ll call—Sarah’ll call you,”

And that’s how it all started years ago, a chance encounter, a little girl wanting to learn how to braid her hair and her handsome Daddy agreeing to it all.

Before Joel had a chance to respond, Sarah burst through the back door. Her face flushed from the summer heat, with her now-soaked hair secured in two French braids that you had done up for her earlier in the day.

She looked over at the cake behind you with a beaming smile. “Is it time for cake yet?”

“Almost, honey,” you replied. “You havin’ fun?”

She nodded with vigor, little droplets of water splashing down on the floor underneath her as she addressed you. “Uh-huh! Thank you for bringing the Slip ‘N Slide,”

She was too damn sweet.

Making your way over to her you saw one of her braids coming a bit loose at the end. “Only for you, sweet girl.” you began. “You want me to fix this braid for you before you go back out?”

She nodded again before turning her back to you to let you begin your work on her hair.

Joel watched you do this in complete silence, his heart lodged directly in his windpipe as you doted on his girl. It had been like this ever since the first time Sarah called you on the phone. You were immediately sweet on her and Joel couldn’t deny that having a woman on call to help Sarah do things like, braid and buy birthday outfits was more than welcome.

And in return, you got closer to him too, closer than any woman had gotten in years. There was a hole in Joel's heart that you slotted into perfectly.

“Are you ever gonna ask her out? Or are you gonna wait for some other guy ‘round town to do it?”

Tommy asked Joel that months ago, actually, for almost a year now Tommy had been pestering Joel about you. Tommy didn’t understand why in gods name a pretty thing like you was hanging around Joel and his daughter. But he mostly didn’t understand why his hard-headed older brother couldn’t pluck up the courage to tell you how he felt.

How Joel felt was, complicated. You're good for Sarah in a way that he didn’t want to mess up by getting into a relationship. It would break her heart if something were to happen that would keep you away from her. So that’s why Joel kept a tight lip and his feelings locked away to the best of his abilities.

But you made it hard, making it nearly impossible not to kiss you when you would sit around his kitchen table chattering away with Sarah after school. Made it hard as hell not to confess every feeling he had for you when you would sit her in front of you on his couch and style her hair on Sunday nights.

Even now, watching you run your fingers gently through her damp hair to re-assemble the style she had requested specifically for her special party made him weak in the knees.

"All good birthday girl," you chirped, playfully tugging at the end of the fresh braid.

Sarah gave you a quick and enthusiastic thank you before running back out the door, a chorus of giggles erupted the moment she rejoined her friends. It was precious, and it was everything a little girl like Sarah Miller deserved.

"Thank you," Joel said softly, his mind caught up in the vision you presented to him right now, skin and hair bathed in perfect afternoon sunlight in his mess of a kitchen. "You keep sayin' it's nothin' but, it means a lot to—" Joel paused briefly, some sentiment trying to crawl its way out. "It means a lot to me. More than you know."

You know a little. Know that Sarah's mom left and that Joel works tirelessly to provide for them and his younger brother. You're aware of the privilege it is to be a part of Sarah and Joel's life, to be let into their little corner of the world.

You smiled softly at him. If only he knew you would do anything for the two of them—would move mountains if Joel and Sarah asked you to. A kid's birthday party, making a cake and bringing your old Slip ‘N Slide was nothing in comparison to that, and you would do it over and over again, all they needed to do was ask.

"Of course, Joel," you replied, sincerity lacing your tone as you gazed at him in the empty kitchen. "Like I've said before, I'd truly do anything for her. For you too, Joel, you know that."

Joel huffed in response, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through his still-damp hair. You could see some spark of a thought running through his mind, those expressive brown eyes were a dead giveaway every time.

Before Joel got the chance to speak further, the pair of you turned your heads after hearing the front door fly open and promptly slam shut. The door closing was followed by the sound of heavy work boots stomping through the empty house.

"Hey sweetheart," Tommy greeted you first with a quick kiss to your cheek as he made his way through the kitchen. "How's the birthday party, bro? Have the 11 years olds taken over yet?"

Joel grunted something unintelligible in response as he watched Tommy slide up to you easily, there was no hesitation in the younger Miller's actions as he reached towards the cake on the counter only to have his hand slapped away by you.

"Tommy!" you yelled. He just shrugged with a smile as he backed away with his hands held up in mock defense. "You were not just about to put your dirty fingers on this birthday cake were you?"

Joel had watched numerous scenes like this play out over the years. Tommy and you were close in age, only a year apart with you being the elder of the pair. Your rapport was easy, it was playful and fun in a way that made Joel's inside twinge with jealousy. He knew Tommy meant no harm by it, but it didn't stop his ears from ringing anytime Tommy would touch you in the ways he wish he had the courage to. Sometimes he wanted to ask his younger brother what your skin felt like on his lips, or what it was like to make you laugh in a way only Tommy could.

"Come on," Tommy started, "can you blame me? Look at that thing, it's a masterpiece. Ain't it Joel?"

Joel's nostrils flared slightly at his younger brother goading, this was another thing Joel was used to. Tommy doing everything in his power — including incessant teasing — to push him to confess his feelings for you.

Joel took the bait happily this time. "It is darlin'. It's perfect."

Your spine prickled at the pet name, nothing set your nervous system on fire like having Joel Miller call you sweet names like darlin'.

"Alright, fellas," you said with a smile, a hand planted firmly on your hip as you stared down the Miller brothers. "I'm gonna go wrangle up the girls and get them ready for cake. Joel, can you please make sure your heathen of a brother doesn't try any funny business in here?"

"Yes ma'am," Joel replied, his eyes following your every move as you walked out the back door and into the belly of the beast.

"You're a moron," Tommy deadpanned.

Joel whipped around to stare at Tommy, jaw slack and eyes ablaze. "Come again?"

Tommy cleared his throat comically before repeating himself. "You're a fucking moron," he said with a smirk. "Just tell her already, Joel."

"Tommy, I swear to god not this again," Joel sighed.

"Yes, this again," Tommy said smugly. "Do you know what it's like to watch the two of you dance around each other like a couple of high schoolers?"

Joel opened his mouth to counter, but Tommy beat him to it. "She likes you, Joel, it's clear as damn day that she likes you."

"She's doin' all this for Sarah, not me," Joel mumbled half-heartedly, the words had no conviction behind them.

"You don't believe that and you know it." Tommy was quick to reply. "She does this for you, for both of you, and you owe it to her to tell her how you feel."

"It doesn't fuckin' matter, Tommy," Joel said to his brother in a biting tone. "Sarah needs her. Sarah needs her in a way that I can't risk messing up because of what, a crush?"

Joel felt like he was choking on the words coming out of his mouth. It didn't feel right to say out loud, it seemed wrong to call whatever he felt for you a crush. But he hoped and prayed that the longer he kept you at a distance the easier it would get.

This had been Joel's plan of action for a long time, keep you at arm's length to protect Sarah, to protect himself, to keep his girl happy. And for a while, it worked. For a few months, it was enough for him just to see how happy you made Sarah — to watch her learn from you.

It worked until it didn't. It worked until Joel would come home and see you curled up on the couch with Sarah, and all he wanted to do was kiss you awake. The plan was solid until he caught the two of you standing in front of the bathroom mirror one day, her hands mirroring your own as you weaved pieces of your hair together. Joel could read Sarah like a book, she loved you, admired you even, and Joel wouldn't risk taking that away from her.

"Joel," Tommy said with a frown. "Please, you deserve this. You and Sarah deserve her. Let yourself have this. Let that beautiful woman outside who loves you and your daughter so damn much have this."

You could tell there was a strange tension in the air when you poked your head back into the kitchen. "Hey boys," you said hesitantly, glancing back and forth between the two of them. "Joel, you mind lightin' those candles? I got them all settled out there and if they don't get cake ASAP I can't be held responsible for what they do."

"Course," Joel sent one final look towards Tommy before he made his way over to the cake, a scowl planted firmly on his features as he mouthed drop it at his brother.

Tommy did nothing but smile slyly in Joel's direction. He had settled with his tailbone pressed against the counter, leaning casually next to Joel as his older brother rummaged around in the drawers for a lighter.

Tommy couldn’t help but stir the pot, making Joel a little uncomfortable was his brotherly duty and he wouldn't dare slack off.

"What have you been up to lately besides helpin' my brother plan birthday parties, sweetheart?" Tommy inquired.

It was an innocent query, one that could have led to any number of answers from you. What Joel didn't expect to hear as he was lighting candle number four was what came from your lips.

"Well," you started sheepishly, "I did go on a date the other weekend. It was horrible though, like, considering celibacy levels of horrible."

You didn't date often. Finding a man worth your time in Austin had never proven to be an easy task. Sure, there were plenty of dateable, attractive men available. But none of them lit you up quite like Joel Miller, so you found it easier to turn most down politely. Occasionally a charming enough guy could spark your interest, and that's exactly what happened two weeks ago.

"Oh really?"

Even though Joel wasn't facing Tommy he knew the idiot was grinning ear to ear.

"Yeah," you were laughing now, "the man's ego was bigger than the whole damn state of Texas. I've never in my life heard a man talk about himself so much."

Tommy couldn't help but push the conversation further, making his older brother squirm was hardwired into the man's brain. "Okay, so he was a talker — what happened after?"

If you hadn't been the one to make the cake Joel was currently standing over, he would have smashed the confection square into Tommy's smug little face.

"After?" you could hear your tone go the slightest bit shrill at the mere thought of taking your failed date home. "There was no after, Tommy. We had drinks, he talked my ear off and I went home. After, was me cleaning the dirty dishes in my sink once I got home."

Tommy just tutted, sucking his teeth at his failed attempt to crack Joel. What Tommy didn't know, was that Joel didn't like hearing the story no matter the outcome of your date. Did it make it better knowing that you had no connection with the guy? Yes. Did the thought of you going out on dates with men that weren't him make Joel's stomach turn? Also yes.

You glanced over at Joel as he worked to light candle number 11, his strong hands working delicately to ensure that no excess wax from the candles dripped onto the frosting. You could watch him do mundane things for hours, and you had. Countless summer afternoons with you and Sarah on the porch, watching Joel mow the lawn while you taught his daughter how to weave together friendship bracelets. Lazy Saturday evenings filled with laughter, takeout pizza and movie rentals. Joel, you can't not like The Princess Bride, it's a classic. A classic that he now had to rent from the video store almost weekly since you first showed the movie to Sarah in his living room.

Watching Joel be a Father was your favorite though — to see him do something as simple as light 11 perfectly placed candles on his daughter's birthday cake was enough to make your heart speed up.

"Looks like we're all ready. You boys ready to do some singin'?"

»»————-¤————-««

It was a few hours later: the cake was long gone, presents had been opened and the backyard returned to its normal state of affairs. Sarah had gone to spend the night at a friend's house after begging Joel to let her. Again, how do you say no to a little girl on her 11th birthday?

"You wanna drink?" Joel swallowed back the nerves rising in his throat as he asked you to stay longer. "Think you deserve one after all of that."

"I'll take one," you replied, finally settling down into Joel's worn couch, your bare feet instantly kicking out in front of you to rest on his coffee table. "Just give me whatever you're having."

Moments later, Joel entered the dimly lit living room with two lowball glasses half full of amber liquid, one with and one without ice. Joel was still in the same outfit as earlier, a grass-stained white shirt and tight-fitting denim. You wondered if he could smell the scent of summer on you as strongly as you could from him. Joel was all wet concrete, warm skin and humid air.

Joel settled down next to you, clearing his throat as he handed you your glass and held his own up to you.

"Cheers," he said quietly, lightly clinking his glass against yours before you both took tandem sips of your whiskeys. "You were really somethin' today, you know that? There's no way I'm gonna be able to top that birthday party."

"Was I?" you teased, "Was it the Slip ‘N Slide that pushed it over the edge? Or was it the expert little girl wrangling?"

Honesty pushed past Joel's lips before he could will himself to hold it back, "It was just you, darlin', always is. You're good with Sarah, have been since the day you met her."

That earnest reply made your heart jump straight into your throat, it sent a thrilling tingle from the top of your head to the very tips of your bare toes.

"She's easy to be good for, Joel. You know that better than anyone."

You saw Joel getting ready to respond to your statement, some self-deprecating comment on the tip of his tongue, so you cut him off before he even got the chance. "You're easy to be good for too, Joel. I don't do any of this just for Sarah. I do it for you too."

You were echoing Tommy's words from earlier and it made Joel's head spin. Hearing it from his younger brother was one thing, hearing it directly from you made him feel like he'd already drained his entire glass of whiskey.

"Why?"

You released a small sigh, removing your feet from the coffee table to tuck your knees close to your chest, angling your body in Joel's direction. You could still feel the tingling sensation from earlier but now it was paired with the feeling of honesty bubbling up to the surface.

"Because I like to, Joel," you said simply, moving to place your glass on the coffee table. "Because I like doing things for you, I like being around you."

Joel’s heart was beating impossibly loud at that moment, the sound of it in his ears enough to deafen him and have him worried that you could somehow hear his artery working overtime.

“Joel,” you started, taking a deep breath in through your nose to quell the feeling of anxiety brewing in your stomach. “you have to know how much I care about you, right?”

You weren’t even touching him, yet he could feel you all over, your confession planted itself directly into his brain — deep into the parts he kept locked away. The parts where he kept thoughts of you and him together, thoughts he only indulged in when he was fast asleep and dreaming of you looking at him the way you were at that very moment.

“Sugar,“ the endearment slipped past his lips before he could even process it. “I don’t want Sarah to get hurt.”

Another confession, this time the one Joel had been terrified to admit to you. So afraid that he thought he’d be okay admiring you from afar for the rest of his life if he had to.

“She won't get hurt,” you whispered to him, gently placing your hand on his denim-covered knee as you leaned in closer to him.

Joel swallowed hard, and his lips subconsciously parted as he stared at the earnest expression painted all over your face.

“How do you know?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Because I know you wouldn’t let that happen. Not to her, and not to me. You couldn’t hurt us if you tried, Joel.”

Joel gripped your hand resting on his knee, pressing his warm palm into yours as he pulled you in closer. The pair of you were sharing the same breath now, the sharp notes of whiskey mixed with sugary sweet frosting lingered in the space between your mouths.

“Mm,” Joel hummed as he brought his other hand up to rest his thumb on the highest part of your cheek. The same cheek Tommy had kissed earlier that day, the exact cheek he had imagined himself kissing so many times before as he stared on in envy.

“Can I kiss you, sugar?”

So many things happened in your body at once, but the immediate flooding in your panties and the butterflies in your lower belly trumped them all.

“Please, Joel.”

The moment Joel pressed his lips to yours a moan rose from the deepest parts of his chest. An unconscious release as he indulged in an action he thought was only a foolish daydream until a moment ago.

Kissing you was bliss. At that moment you both knew exactly where Nirvana was, it was locked away, hidden in the kisses you and Joel shared.

Tongues explored mouths, teeth playfully nipped at spit-soaked bottom lips and Joel couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He was quickly wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you onto his welcoming lap.

You were just as swift to act. Adjusting your positioning so you were straddling Joel’s thick thighs, reveling in the feeling of the heat from his body soaking into the bare skin of your legs.

You wasted no time sinking your full weight onto Joel’s lap. The desperation in you was mounting, and the need to relieve the pressure building in your core had goosebumps rising all over your skin.

Joel released another groan as he felt your core press into his growing erection—and the sweet moan you let out as he bucked his hips upward had his head spinning.

“Will you let me make you feel good, Joel?” you murmured as you stared directly into his deep brown eyes.

Joel tipped his head back as he soaked in your words. That was just like you, a nurturer to the core. And he couldn’t deny you what you wanted.

“Course, sweetheart.”

With that, you were pulling your shirt over your head to reveal the simple bra underneath. Your nipples had been hard since the moment he asked if he could kiss you, and Joel was drawn to them like a moth to flame.

Before you could even make your move Joel was latching his warm mouth to your covered breasts. His teeth immediately began teasing, biting and pulling, doing whatever he could to elicit a chorus of moans from you.

“Joel, I said-“

“I know what you said, sugar.”

Joel had heard you. But you were making him feel good. The feel of you grinding yourself on top of him as he played with your tits had him rock hard already. If you could make him feel like this from a heavy make-out session he could only imagine that everything else would be damn near euphoric.

“Can you take these off, baby?” Joel asked as he tugged at the hem of your shorts.

You nodded wordlessly and stood to your full height in front of him. Using the small space between his knees and the coffee table to slip your shorts down your legs and leave them forgotten on the rug beneath you.

“Those pretty panties too, sugar. Let me see you.”

This was a Joel you had never seen before. A man starved. A man who wanted nothing more than to leave you dreaming of him after he was done.

“Why don’t you take ‘em off for me, cowboy?”

All you saw was a smirk ghosting over Joel’s lips before he gripped your hips and turned you to face away from him. One large palm came to rest on your lower back, pressing on the area in a silent command for you to bend forward for him.

And of course, you did. You presented your ass fully to him as he worked to slowly slip your underwear over the swell of your bottom and down your legs.

Joel’s other hand was preoccupied as he opened up the fly on his jeans and freed his cock from the confines of the rigid denim. Before turning you back to face him, Joel reached up to deftly unclasp your bra, leaving you bare and buzzing with adrenaline before him as you both took in one another fully.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen?”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Miller.”

You both smiled at that. Smiled because, beneath all of the sexually charged energy in the room, it was you and him. It was everything.

“Come and take a ride, sugar.”

You knew you were more than wet enough, and the anticipation of sinking onto his hard length had salvia pooling underneath your tongue as you straddled Joel for the second time this evening.

The feeling of Joel’s smooth head prodding against your entrance made you gasp. If his hands weren’t gripping your hips and keeping you hovered over his length you would have sunk down immediately.

Before you could fill yourself, Joel let his thumb wander toward your swollen clit. His own desire clouded his thoughts as he rubbed the sensitive area in small circles and sent waves of pleasure through your entire nervous system.

“Joel, please, no teasing. Not tonight, I need to feel you inside me.”

Always the giver, he obliged. Joel relaxed the grip on your hips and finally allowed you to feel him completely.

A long, drawn-out moan escaped you as you felt Joel filling you up for the first time. Your position on his lap made it feel like he was deeper inside your pussy than anyone had ever been before. And your body responded immediately, your hips began moving almost on their own as you began to chase your pleasure.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck Joel.” You whined.

“Take what you need, sweet thing.” Joel gritted out.

Joel inhaled sharply through his nose as he basked in the feeling of your warm pussy gripping him tight.

Joel let you have the reins for a bit, letting you rock yourself up and down on his cock while he pinched at your bouncing nipples and playfully teased your clit. He only let his eyes close for a moment or two, wanting to commit the sight of you like this to memory. Something sweet to call up when he was alone in his bed and his mind was wandering.

But then enough was enough, Joel felt his own orgasm building swiftly and wanted more than anything to feel you soak his cock before he came.

His hands were back on your hips, palms wide and touch firm as he planted his feet and began to thrust up into you. Before long you were bent over Joel's body, resting your full weight on him as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Can you touch yourself, baby?" Joel practically begged. "Play with your clit for me, sugar."

Ever since you met Joel you'd never been able to say no to him. Not when it came to little girl's birthday parties, and especially not when it came to the orgasm you could feel building up through your entire body. So you did, you reached down between your bodies to sloppily rub at your clit as Joel chased his orgasm alongside yours.

You came undone quicker than you anticipated. A thick, guttural moan escaped you as pleasure raced through your veins. Joel, still attentive, still watching you, was coming closer to his own end. His senses were filled with the sight, sound and feel of you coming undone on top of him.

Joel's breathing was shallow and heavy as he came deep inside you, his sensitive cock aching for more, more, more as he pumped in and out of you, finally coming to a slow stop as he allowed both of you to catch your breath.

For a while, neither of you said a word, the only movement came from Joel softly running the tips of his fingers up and down your spine. In the rush of it all, you'd barely noticed that Joel had not removed a single article of clothing—the two of you were beautifully juxtaposed against the other as you settled into the afterglow and what this meant for the two of you moving forward.

Joel pressed a gentle kiss into your hair, pulling you close to him. "I need you, Sugar."

"You've had me since the day you met me, Joel."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller hbo #pre outbreak!joel #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller tlou

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anyasathenaeum · 10 months

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Can I request a first time smut with Vash please???? big bonus points if you can make it reunion sex hehehehe im a huge sucker for that kinda stuff. thank you so much!!

A/N: The way I'm immediately putting this with Eriks!Vash (I wanna smash him so bad he just makes me wanna *insert horny grip meme here*) I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. Anyways, feel free to think of this as a follow-up to this fic. Anon who requested that fic - guess you're getting that spice after all!

Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader (female terms used), smut, lots of smut, hints of Vash having a size kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks, practice safe sex!)

The only thing you could register, other than the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, was just how warm Vash's skin was against your own.

You'd been separated from Vash for two years, since the destruction of the city of July, and you'd only just found him in a quaint little town, disguised as a man named Eriks. His hair had grown longer, and he had scruff on his face and now wore glasses, but deep down, he was still your Vash.

Your reunion had been filled with tears of sadness, regret, happiness, love and disbelief, with you both clutching onto one another as you both cried and rejoiced at being reunited. And now, as the house where Vash had been living became silent as people drifted to sleep, the two of you had fallen into one another, pressed up against each other, clutching at each other with a desperate need to be comforted and assured that this was real.

Clothes had quickly but gently been shed, leaving you bare before Vash for the first time. You could feel the heat rising in your face as you stood there, your body exposed to Vash in a way you'd never done before.

You and Vash knew that you had feelings for one another, and despite being in a relationship prior to the events in July, this was the first time you and Vash had ever gotten so... intimate.

Now, Vash was looking at you with wide, blue eyes, filled with an awe and a love so tender that it would have others believing you had hung the stars in the sky.

"(Y/N)... G-God..."

Vash's voice was low and rumbly as he pressed you up against him, his body trembling slightly at the feeling of you against him.

You felt a shiver go down your spine as Vash's large hand pressed against your bare lower back, pulling you into him as his lips ghosted over the sensitive skin on your neck, his scruff scratching against you slightly.

"You're so beautiful."

Vash's warm breath fanned over your skin, sending another shiver down your spine, your fingers digging into his arms slightly as you tried to suppress a quiet moan.

You could feel Vash's muscled and scarred body moving against yours, and before you could process it, Vash had lifted you up, his hands tucked under your thighs as he carried you to the bed, gently placing you down so that he sat against the headboard with you in his lap.

"V-Vash," You got out breathlessly, looking up at him as you sat in his lap, straddling him a bit. Was this really happening?

You could feel the silky warmth of Vash's cock brushing up against your folds, a shiver coursing up you as your eyes widened - he was big. You had known that from the moment you saw his cock; long, and surprisingly thick with a beautiful reddish-pink head, veins visible along the sides.

However, now, as you felt Vash brushing up against you, you realized you didn't understand just how big.

"I-I don't know if I can... take you," You mumbled in embarrassment, your cheeks flaming pink as you felt Vash's cock twitch against your pussy - did he find that idea attractive?

"Oh, (Y/N)," Vash whispered gently in return, his large hands rubbing your thighs tenderly as he spoke, "I'll prepare you. Don't worry, love. I plan to make sure you're ready before we go any further."

Sure enough, with that, Vash pressed his lips to your neck, gently sucking and kissing your skin with just enough pressure to leave little marks - signs of his love for you. You stifled your moans, but the moment one of Vash's prosthetic fingers found your clit, you let out a choked gasp.

Vash just smirked a bit at your reaction, "Bingo."

With that, he gently pressed his lips to yours as he continued to circle your clit, drawing more muffled moans and cries of pleasure from you against his lips. You bucked your hips desperately in his lap, seeking more friction as you felt your orgasm beginning to build deep in your abdomen, your heart racing as Vash's fingers continued their nimble work.

"God, (Y/N), you look so beautiful like this," Vash all by growled out, his eyes filled with desire and love as he gazed at you coming undone by his touch, "I-I've missed you so much."

"I-ah! M-Missed you, Vash," You replied between gasps and moans, your orgasm nearing with every second Vash had his hands on you, "L-Love you... love you s'much."

"I love you, too, (Y/N). I've thought of nothing but you," Vash panted back between kisses to your skin, relishing the taste of you as he felt you tense in his arms, his lips ghosting over your chest and neck, "Nothing but you these last two years."

His passionately words of love for you, plus the feeling of Vash circling your bud perfectly, had you cumming harder than ever before, a cry of Vash's name leaving your lips as you came undone, the pleasure washing over you in wave after wave after wave.

"That's it, (Y/N), God, you're so beautiful when you cum for me," Vash mumbled gently, kissing your lips softly as he held you close.

You were panting softly in his embrace, your head resting on his shoulder as Vash hugged you to him, letting the aftershocks of your pleasure run through you.

"W-Want you, Vash," You panted out, gently grinding yourself on Vash's cock - you could feel the precum leaking out of its head, likely from just the sight of you cumming in his embrace, "Want you so bad."

You heard Vash hiss softly as you pressed your pussy down against his cock, his whole body tensing and his hands clutching onto your hips so hard he probably bruised you.

"(Y-Y/N)! G-God, Mayfly, pl-please, be careful! S-Sensitive!"

You couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh as you looked at Vash's face - those beautiful, blue eyes, wide and filled with pleasure and awe, the beads of sweat on his brow, his expressive eyebrows, his pretty nose and lips, his long, blonde hair, everything - he looked different than the last time you saw him, but God... he was still gorgeous.

"So... beautiful..." You whispered gently, your hand coming up to cup Vash's cheek as you pressed the softest and most tender of kisses to his jawline, the scruff rubbing your skin as you did so.

"Make love to me, Vash."

You surprised yourself with your own words, and you could see Vash's eyebrows rising in surprise, but the smile on his face spoke of his desire as he nodded, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek delicately. You watched the most beautiful blush spread across Vash's cheeks and the tips of ears and his nose, those baby blues focusing on you with a gaze filled with love, tenderness and desire as his hand returned to your hip.

Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Vash's hands lifted you by your hips, letting you reach down to align his cock with your soaking wet pussy, teasing him gently by swiping it through your folds a few times first. The gasps and whines Vash let out were worth it, his voice rising in pitch and volume at the sensation of his cock brushing up against your slick.

"(Y-Y/N)!"

You couldn't help but smile softly, letting the head of Vash's cock push into you slightly as you sunk down onto him, causing you both to moan out in sync at the feeling of Vash stretching you out at last. The stretching feeling burned slightly, but within moments, the discomfort was giving way to pleasure.

"I-I love you, Vash," You gasped out, clutching onto him so hard you're sure your nails broke his skin, leaving marks, "I love you. Don't ever go... somewhere I can't follow you."

"N-Never, (Y/N), never!" Vash replied, whining at the feeling of you clenching just around his tip, desperately fighting the urge to slam you down onto him in one move, "I love you. N-Never wanna be apart from you again. It almost killed me..."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, each nerve feeling like a livewire as Vash touched you and pushed into you gently as he shifted you, his words making your heart pound frantically in your chest.

Looking up at you tenderly, Vash whispered, "You ready?".

All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice to work at the moment. In one consistent but slow movement, Vash sank you down into his lap, pushing into your pussy inch by inch until he was in to the hilt, gasping as he felt you clench around him.

You hissed at the sting of him stretching you out, but it was outshone by the pure pleasure and happiness you felt as being joined with Vash this way at last. Finally... the two of you could share in this intimacy.

"Big... y-you're... big, Vash," You whimpered out, bringing your mouth down to his shoulder and biting down a bit, causing Vash to shiver.

"Sorry, (Y/N)," Vash cooed back softly, his hand brushing through your hair gently, "But you took me so well, Mayfly. So well..."

You whined in response to his praise, your pussy tightening around Vash and causing his breath to hitch.

"God... I can feel every bit of you. So tight, Mayfly. Try to relax..."

You did as Vash said, taking a deep breath and trying to relax yourself, letting yourself rest in Vash's lap. You wanted nothing more than to stay this way, holding onto Vash, feeling him against you, in you, for the rest of time.

"I-I'm gonna move now, (Y/N). Is that okay?"

"Yes, Vash," You whispered breathlessly, feeling so unbelievably full, "Please. Move."

Vash's smile was so bright, hearing you say that, and as gently as possible, he lifted your hips, sliding out of you almost entirely before pulling you back down into his lap and thrusting back into you, drawing out a moan from your lips as pleasure shot through you.

You shifted slightly, moving your own hips in time with Vash's guiding hands, allowing Vash to thrust deeper and deeper into you, both of you gasping, moaning and whining at the friction between you. Soon, that same feeling from before began to build again in the pit of your abdomen, a feeling of pleasure getting you close and closer to the edge.

"Nngh! (Y/N), G-God, you feel amazing... you're incredible, M-Mayfly..."

Vash's moans of pleasure had you clenching on him, a small gasp escaping the both of you as you continued to roll your hips, Vash holding you close in his lap as he thrusted up into you in time with your movements. You could feel his large hands splayed across your back, holding you close to him in a protective, almost desperate manner, your own hands clutching onto Vash's shoulders for leverage.

You two were close, so impossibly close.

"V-Vash, I- I'm gonna cum, I-"

"M-Me too, (Y/N), m-me too!"

With a few thrusts, you finally felt your orgasm wash over you, pleasurable wave after wave crashing into you, causing your pussy to clench down on Vash's cock in a way unlike anything he'd ever felt before. With a final thrust, Vash spent himself inside you, a warmth blooming in your abdomen as Vash pressed his lips to yours passionately, holding you close to him as he painted your walls with his seed.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Vash gasped out against your lips, holding you close to him as his chest heaved. You could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he spoke, his voice quiet but so, so loving, clearly moved by the intensity and the intimacy of the moment.

"I love you, too, Vash," You replied, pressing your forehead against his and just hugging him close, relishing in the feeling of his warmth against you, your own eyes burning with tears.

All the emotions coursing through you were overwhelming, but you couldn't help but feel love, happiness, and relief. Vash was here with you, and you were here with him, and there was no doubt that the two of you would never be separated again.

"So... can we do that again?"

You sighed at Vash's question, a small smile appearing on your lips. You might've just awakened a whole different beast.

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun smut #tristamp smut #tristamp vash #vash smut #vash x reader smut #vash the stampede smut

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mahuhumaling · 29 days

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JATP Season 2 Wishlist

that i wrote in my notes app back in:

and realized i never posted it here? tbf i'm rarely on tumblr. but because i really miss them rn i want to share my ✨ brainrot ✨ that i had back when i thought they were getting a renewal.

Carrie Wilson

she was my biggest flaw in Season 1. I wish her "redemption arc" is fleshed out more in Season 2; give her either more context & backstory to validate her reason for unnecessarily antagonizing Julie, or screentime to properly address how she's just projecting an emotion completely different into bitterness and anger into Julie's recovery

show particularly her earlier dynamic w/ Flynn and Julie? Maybe as Flynn calls her out, we'd get flashback glimpses prior to Rose's death (maybe even Double Trouble temporarily being Triple Threat 👉🏽👈🏽)

for some reason i'm picturing a scene where she's in her dance studio (she has one in their mansion, of course) practicing some of her Dirty Candy routine when she keeps messing up and not in the right mindset to keep dancing. i feel like the best (maybe easiest but whatever) way to guide the audience into her artist mind is to make her be a perfectionist. in frustration, she blows up for a minute before slumping onto the ground and reminisces her fun times with Julie & Flynn

also when you have her develop, please don't make her lose her femininity and the bubblegum pop music, it's great

Old Songs Resurfacing

it'll prove how detailed & thorough you are as a screenwriter if you pay off the songs mentioned in Season 1 in passing to be actual songs in Season 2

Unreleased: Get Lost, Long Weekend, Crooked Teeth, My Name is Luke, and if that riff from the scene in EP. 5 that spurred on the Bobby reveal isn't from one of these songs, add that too

Demo Album: Late Last Night, Lakeside Reflection, In Your Starlight

Willex

imagine your queer couple gets to have their first kiss first than your het main couple, not only will that settle Madi & Charlie's statements about being uncomfortable in doing a kissing scene and maintaining the priority of Juke's emotional over physical relationship, it would also make an powerful statement

Reggie's Character Arc

i know that he initially had an arc that involved a romance with Flynn but because of the ages of who they casted, they scrapped it and didn't have time to rewrite the scripts for him as filming neared, so they have time to adapt to how jeremy portrayed him for season 2: a lovable dork who craves familial love

since there's a possibility that lifers can now see the boys, maybe some found family trope for Reggie and Ray Molina?

he has pretty much formed a parasocial relationship with him at this point

so why not instead of a love interest, Reggie can have his character arc develop & we see his family before thru flashbacks and paralleling those in the current times because he sees Ray as a father figure

picture this: it's raining, Bobby opens the garage door to the sound of knocking, the boys find Reggie soaking wet and out of breath when he tries to say he doesn't know where else to go then the boys immediately figure out another fight in the Peters household happened. Reggie tries to talk again when Alex (because even though they're the airhead-sarcastic duo, they know they love each other) runs up to hug him and tells the other he doesn't have to say anything

cut to a freshly showered Reggie, quietly watching tv with Bobby, Luke, and Alex in the garage, eating whatever

also a solo acoustic country song, pls. just to make him happy

The Aftermath of the Deaths

for both the boys and Rose

we get parallels about how Bobby dealt with trauma and grief to Julie

like, the reason why the clothes are still in there (are to have costume changes for the boys) is because Bobby immediately moved out of the house (therefore also the garage) and left the clothes there because he couldn't bear to burn it, or visit the boys' houses to break the news to their families and return the clothes, or donate it somewhere so he just...left it. it would make for a more solid reason (for costume changes) and an emotional context as to how Bobby really tried to forget them because it was "easier."

it would also make sense why Carrie and Julie ended up friends. Rose probably was there for Bobby when they discovered what happened at the alleyway, so they stayed friends over the years and had their respective families but still kept in touch, (bonus points if absolutely nothing romantic happened between them! yay to normalizing platonic male-female relationships) and why Rose would immediately think of Bobby's three late bandmates to send for Julie when she was on her deathbed

Bobby never really "moved on" (because grief is a really complex thing). it's showed that he has a therapist and everything, and this could definitely have some aftereffects on his daughter. Carrie growing up seeing her father be this amazing rockstar but a negligent father and only showing love in ways she doesn't need (like riches and fame and connections to the music industry) because he's actually a really lonely man on the inside and no one can see that except for Bobby's spouse and Carrie. it'd explain why Carrie is spoiled, and other negative character traits that Carrie has on the surface

it's even why Bobby changed his name to Trevor: 1) Bobby is so closely associated to Sunset Curve and it's an absolute pain to be reminded of that every day, 2) it's a stage name and artists really do get that

More Worldbuilding

they already had some pretty creative concepts/ideas in the first season, so why not expand/expound on them a bit more

the instruments are attached to their souls that's why the boys at first can only touch them, like how Willie's skateboard and helmet are attached to him

which is why when they attach themselves to the world of the present, they gather up energy and focus on touching tangible things like the picture frame

this may follow the logic toward the end where they are finally able to touch Julie because she has become attached to their souls. emotionally.

More Creative Collaboration

i believe in the principle that when a story is finally released/published/told to the world, the world shares it. this is also visible in film/tv where when the scripts are finished and actors receive them, the story becomes part of theirs to work on. which means that they have some sort of autonomy over their characters' motivations, a chance to be heard of their ideas and pitches, and why some certain scenes wouldn't work, etc etc. it doesn't just become the director's story nor the screenwriters'.

the actors' ideas such as Perfect Harmony and their solos from Nothing to Lose are great because they let them in. they took risks, and it paid off incredibly well. more of that please. have them be a part of the writing process, (also the story), but never forget what made the music production great in the first place. be coherent and don't be like others that let too many hands work on one piece—it will lose its sound, its identity.

Julie Knowing

that Nick is possessed by Caleb. ohmygOD. hear me out.

the same S1 ending will play somewhere in 2x01, but it will be revealed that Julie was watching through the window the entire time and when she opens the door to receive the flowers, that last look she gives him is actually her scheming.

determined to get Nick back, imagine The Promised Neverland's level of mindgames Julie could play with Caleb because we already know our girl's smart

Free Willie Willie's Freedom

since the boys feel indebted to Willie's help, they insist on helping him too with getting rid of Caleb's stamp

maybe through his connection with Alex? or maybe Willie's family or friends who are still lifers (which is unlikely but either way). he needs to be saved !!

Song Sequences Ideas

juke counter melody duet like Rini's "Even When/The Best Part," Shane & Mitchie's "Wouldn't Change a Thing," or dodie & Jon Cozart's "a love song/a non love song"

emotional carrie ballad paired with lyrical hiphop choreo

willex song - i absolutely have no idea where this could go directionally but maybe alex on an acoustic guitar with a really soft sweet tune

reprises of S1 songs but in the complete opposite of their original style (the fandom's lonelier All Eyes on Me version, i see u)

nick guitar solo - just because Sacha actually plays, idk how it'd fit in to the plot yet but hey

Nothing to Lose (Reprise) - back in the '90s, a producer manipulates Bobby to sign a record deal to become a star but on one condition: disassociate himself with Sunset Curve, to which he first declines until he slowly gets persuaded. (sort of like Todrick Hall's So Lucky to Be You meets Lyn Lapid's Producer Man)

"So how about it, Bobby Shaw? Do we have a deal?"

"Trevor."

"I'm sorry?"

"Call me Trevor Wilson."

i'm pretty sure someone made an animatic with this idea too but i cannot for the life of me find it !!

7. Season 2 starts the same way as Season 1 does before the opening song plays

Black screen that reads a text "Hollywood 1995"

a pan down to the Orpheum's overhead sign that reads "SUNSET CURVE SOLD OUT"

cut to the interior with Rose finishing up her cleaning when a stage manager calls out: "Sunset Curve!" to which Bobby abruptly stops his pacing back and forth to look up. he and Rose look at each other. music swells until...

cut to him running onto the alleyway, "are they still not finished eating? those gluttons are dead to me i swear—" he cuts off his own words when he sees the boys getting dragged onto stretchers. but we, the audience, don't see it. just a close up of bobby as the ambulance lights reflects his face. rose comes up behind him, still clutching their t-shirt.

[i honestly have no idea if Bobby should get on stage because it just proves Luke's theory of The Orpheum's opening bands eventually becoming big & successful so it'll explain the Trevor Wilson fame even though at first he only did it for the boys, or if he shouldn't because according to the article Julie googled he ran away immediately after they were pronounced in the scene] but either way, this is how the opening starts.

then it progresses to Rose and Bobby respectively having children so they could parallel each other blah blah

8. Julie plays a simple song on the piano while the guys watch her in awe

Storytelling through Props

let's dive deep into Rose's luggage/suitcase and use the props to head for Julie's emotional attachment with them

they already did it with the wardrobe: Rose wears the black leather vest in the pilot while Julie wears the same thing in EP 6

add depth to the characters' relationships like us finding out Julie's multilayered necklace is actually a gift from Carrie or something

SOYON ANN YOU'RE A GIFT FROM GOD. Bobby's necklace is present in both young and old!him

**Rose in flashback scenes should be wearing clothes we've already seen Julie in Season 1 just for greater effect.

The Bobby Conflict

definitely needs to be brought up again by Season 2; they only discarded somewhere in the middle because more pressing matters like the boys' existence blipping away was pushed to the forefront of the story

however, The Bobby Conflict changes. it'll be cleared up that he was offered a record deal as a solo artist by a manipulative producer. and given that the poor boy is only 17 (too, maybe), he agrees. what he doesn't know is the contract's fine print: giving up Sunset Curve's royalties

that information clears it up to the audience and the band, so the conflict becomes this: Bobby's Survivor's Guilt. god wouldn't that be so good tackling that in a kids'/family show.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie molina #reggie peters #luke patterson #alex mercer #carrie wilson #bobby wilson #trevor wilson #willie #bobby shaw #ray molina #carlos molina #rose molina #flynn taylor #uranus

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chaoticallycaffeinated · 1 year

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Okay I can’t take this I need to talk about it, heavy discussion of the Good Omens Leak below! Don’t click below if you don’t want the spoiler!! Warning you now!!

OH MY GOD OKAY

1) THE PASSION???? THE TENSION????? OH MY GODD. The way Crowley’s hands are FISTED in his jacket and are YANKING him into the kiss is actually killing me. Like I Cannot. I-

2) The parallel of this scene to the Wall Scene™ is literally killing me

3) I wonder if this is their first kiss because like,, I’ve seen people saying that they thought their first kiss would be tender and like... as someone who has PINED before (granted nowhere near their level) I disagree. Obviously these guys are sooo repressed and dumb (lovingly) and I think the way that it would happen would be in a moment of passion as this seems to be. They wouldn’t have the courage otherwise I don’t think. I NEED to know the context NOW though I cannot wait until July 28th.

4) Also people keep hypothesizing about the possible context for this and saying it could be a dream or a body-swap thing or not actually real etc. and I simply,,, Refuse to believe that. Like. No <3. The only one I can kinda see is it being a “Aziraphale-being-dumb-and-self-sacrificing-so-Crowley’s-making-a-point” kiss,, because I love me some of that. But I cannot think about it not being “real” because my dumbass simply couldn’t handle that. So I’m just not thinking of it as a possibility because I’d die methinks.

In summary I have so many thoughts and the release date cannot come soon enough.

(also I am def sad about it being leaked,, especially for Neil,, but I simply don’t know how I would have handled seeing this for the first time w/o prior warning)

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens leak #good omens s2 spoiler #spoilers #(covering all my bases)#anyways I have so many thoughts rn

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vidding · 8 months

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On June 23, 2021, You Tube announced that any Pre-2017 unlisted videos will be made private on July 23, 2021. Why? BTW this is an attempt to raise awareness about an event few fans may even know took place and highlight the importance of supporting archiving projects. It's written by those directly involved - any re-blogs are appreciated. An example of a rescued vid is at the end. Security update: Why? You Tube screwed up when it first developed unlisted videos. There was a loophole. Any unlisted video that was added to a playlist would automatically be made public. Oops! June 23, 2021 was when they made a formal announcement about their efforts to rectify it. You Tube's Solution? - Blanket privatization of ALL pre-2017 unlisted videos & then apply the security update for all new unlisted videos going forward. What if you don't want your pre-2017 unlisted videos to be made private? Filling out a form telling You Tube to do nothing is one option. Great for people who don't mind filling forms to send to You Tube. Make your videos public. 🤨 or download them and reupload them then make them unlisted with the new update. 🙄 You can watch the video below for descriptions of all the options. Most not ideal. Official Video: Released June 23, 2021. You can watch it whenever if you want to, but I must say contrary to what one would expect it is a very clear explanation without too much technical jargon. However, it doesn't really explain the obvious ramifications of this.

youtube

What are the freaking Ramifications: You Tube is 18 years old. What?!?!! 😲 Yeah, I know. Any pre-2017 videos would account for more than half of You Tube's history (11 years) and therefore fandom's history on You Tube. How many fans would be aware they had a 30-day notice and could act in time? Were you even aware of this?

More Issues: More importantly, how many users with abandoned accounts with noteworthy, valuable unlisted fanvids are no longer around to fill out a form. How many "Dead Embeds" would be the result of this when the videos go private. Many prefer to Unlist and Embed on other sites. Unlisted is not the same as private. It only means the videos can't be searched and found on You Tube but is available to anyone with a link or Embed. Private basically means no longer accessible and limited to people who were emailed a link directly.

There were only 2 people in Fandom (to my knowledge) who worked on rescuing content like that. We had about 2 weeks before the July 23, 2021 deadline to archive about 11 years of Pre-2017 unlisted fanvids and ask questions later. One of those people was Morgan Dawn and the other was myself. Other archive teams did work on this but their focus was on other types of videos related gaming, political history, anime, etc. Essentially non-fandom. In a nutshell, our collaboration led to the rescue approximately 12K unlisted fan videos. 12K fanvids that would have been made private forever and unable to be seen. The Work About 50% of that total came from accounts that had never uploaded a video since 2018. The work involved required more technical knowledge & resources than we had ever used before on any prior archive projects. There were several brand-new archive techniques we developed specifically out of necessity during that intense time period. One example was renting multiple virtual machines to sift through thousands of playlists just to find a fraction of unlisted videos. There was so much at stake. What happened with the content that was archived?

To my knowledge, there isn't an Open Doors for fanvids. There is just a few dedicated individuals who may be bad at promoting their work. Let's face it, when there is a fire at a library you marshal all resources to save as many books as you can and worry about everything else later. If archiving speaks to you whether that is fanzine, oral history or fanvid related, then there are certain things you can do:

Follow this Tumblr (we will post about relevant projects here)

If you have time, ask us how you can volunteer on projects and see if what we offer works for you. You can always opt out.

Re-blog this so that maybe someone who does have time sees this.

If you don't have time support our Patreon https://patreon.com/vidding

If you don't have time or money like this post acknowledging you appreciate that this work is being done even if you can't assist in those ways.

Choose whichever options work for you if possible.

This kind of work is done by very few people and not necessarily by those you would think would do this type of work. It can fly under the radar and so can support. This is an attempt to raise awareness which sometimes we are too busy to take time to do. If support doesn't go to the right places projects like this may never have happen or may not be as successful as they could be. This Unlisted You Tube Project is a perfect example of something a lot of fans may not be aware even took place. Thank you for whatever method of support you choose. The following experience was brought to you by archiving.

The following vid is one of the 12k saved. It's a Kirk/Spock vid. You will not find this vid anywhere but here. I know. I went to the original vidder's You Tube Channel https://www.youtube.com/@xKelociraptor and they have other vids on there. Last vid uploaded 11 years ago and no contact info. You want to know the kicker? I looked at all the other vids they have available but the best one (in my opinion) is the one that was unlisted & rescued. Unlisted vids are not necessarily unfinished projects or bad takes of a final version that should not see the light of day. They can in some cases be the best vids you will never see.

If you liked this post you might like this:

The last vidder friendly hosting & streaming site?

#fanvid #vidding #archiving #Youtube

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twopoppies · 7 months

Note

https://twitter.com/stylinarts/status/1714473692585947337?t=18RP7d8GLqJXV5J788jixw&s=19

Gina when did this rumor even get started? So many people mainly larries keep sharing this old ass bit of info as if it's new somehow believe this rumor even tho there is literally zero bit of evidence that proves this happens. Louis, Tom and others hung out a few times in early 1D days and some random anons claim they fucked and somehow there's larries out here posting shit about about it like it's a fact. 🙃

I woke up to an inbox full of questions about this stupidity. I honestly don't even understand why stuff like this gets shared (especially without any sort of evidence it's even real). All it does is get the OP lots of attention and create hysteria among newer fans.

First of all, it's a receipt from more than a decade ago, so I'm not sure why it's being talked about AGAIN. But I'll entertain the questions because I'm so tired of this stuff.

Tom Daley came out in December 2013. He met and started dating Dustin Lance Black (now his husband) that Summer. This receipt says he supposedly slept with Louis prior to that. We have photos of Tom with Niall, Harry, Louis, and Eleanor from James Corden's wedding in September 2012. As far as I know, that's the only time they have been publicly seen together.

We know Louis (and Liam) tweeted Tom about his performance on July 30th 2012. This was just after the band was announced to be performing at the Olympics closing ceremony, so truly unsurprising that their twitter accounts would be showing them having interest in Olympic athletes. We know Louis watched the swimming competition on August 11th in order to give us the super hot Elounor kiss and, once again, remind people that the band would be playing closing ceremonies.

Tom has been a fan of the band for a long time. He once dressed like Louis. He's more recently knitted Harry's JW Anderson sweater and cosplayed Harry on the cover of The Times magazine.

TL;DR: I've never seen anything that supported a rumor that Tom and Louis hooked up. All I've ever seen is fans thinking they'd look hot together and taking the fact that they'd met, and that Tom seemed to like the band, as fodder for rumors.

#tom daley #louis rumors #debunked or not?

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grapenehifics · 18 days

Text

Countdown to Chapter One!

My fellow Obikins: I am very, VERY excited to share my next fic with you. Some of you may remember a fic of mine called An Uncivil War, the first chapter of which I posted on AO3 almost exactly a year ago, in May of 2023, and wrapped up that July. At the time, I mentioned to a number of people in the comments that I was already partway through the sequel (An Uncivil War is listed as part one of a three-part series, Can't Stop the Suns), and that I hoped to have Part II ready to go by end of 2023.

Well, that obviously didn't happen. I started looking at February 2024. That didn't happen either. I pushed it to April. April has come and gone. May, though! May I am going to make happen! May 27th, 2024, to be exact. Chapter one of Pick Up the Pieces, a.k.a. part 2 of Can't Stop the Suns, a.k.a. the sequel to An Uncivil War, a.k.a. the thing I have been writing on and off for more than three years now, is going up on AO3. (Excerpt and way more ramblings below the cut.)

A) I wanted to make this announcement in advance because I'm just really excited to share this fic. Parts of it I've posted on Tumblr as WIP Wednesdays, but most of it I've tried to keep under wraps until it's ready and, frankly, I really want to talk about it!

B) @palfriendpatine66 specifically asked for a heads-up before I started posting, but I figured I'd share publicly in case anyone else has the same desire to read (or re-read) part one before starting part two. May 27th is the day!

I do want to say, though - prior knowledge of An Uncivil War is NOT required to understand or enjoy this fic. If you haven't read An Uncivil War, I would really love it if you did! I'm enormously proud of it and love, love, love talking about it. But I also don't want anyone to not give Pick Up the Pieces a try, assuming they were otherwise interested, because they're worried they won't understand what's going on. If you want to jump in, make sure you read the tags and the summary, and by the time you get to chapter three you should have a pretty good grounding in what happened previously. Obviously there are some little details here and there you'll miss but for the most part you should be okay. I did try to make it as accessible as possible.

C) Thirdly - mostly as a reward for reading this far - I thought it would be fun, over the next three Wednesdays, to give a sneak peek of one of the later chapters, because I've really missed doing regular WIP Wednesdays for this fic (for the aforementioned secrecy reasons).

The main part of the fic is set during what would have been the final year of the Clone Wars, except we take a departure from canon during the season 5 episode The Wrong Jedi and diverge off-course from there. Mixed in with that, though, are flashback chapters, covering some portion of Anakin's years as Obi-Wan's Padawan, which have just been a blast to write. They go in roughly chronological order, and this one in particular is set when Anakin is 17. I'll post a little bit today, the next part a week from today, the final section the week after that, and then you'll get the rest of it when chapter ten goes up in the actual fic :)

Chapter Ten preview starts below:

“Uh…” Anakin looked down at his cards and bit his lip. “Hit me?” he asked tentatively. The three other players around the table blinked slowly back at him. He reached out and flipped the top card of the table deck over, letting the rest of the players see it. “Damnit,” he hissed through his teeth.

“Tough luck, boy,” boomed the Besalisk on Anakin’s right, the one he was most worried about getting a peek at his cards. “That makes twenty-two.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Anakin snapped, frustrated. He tossed his cards face-down in front of him. “Don’t remind me.”

Anakin was losing, and quite badly at that. He really needed to slow down and stop the bleeding or Obi-Wan was going to catch him not only gambling, but totally out of credits, too, and he would not be happy about it.

“I’m going to take a break,” Anakin said suddenly, standing up so quickly his chair squeaked. “I’ll sit out this round. Be right back.” He scooped the (very meager) pile of credits he had left to his name into his hand and pocketed them before walking away. What he really wanted to do was take a quick minute to check the chronometer strapped to his wrist without any of them seeing him do it, but needing to take a walk was as good an excuse as any.

He didn’t leave the Castle (Takodana was a little too humid for Anakin’s liking), just took a slow lap around the edges of it, checking out the other gambling tables, the billiards games, the tourists, the regulars, the spacers, the spice runners, the spice addicts, the smugglers. The people who, if he hadn’t become a Jedi, probably would have been his friends and his enemies, his rivals, his contemporaries. His lovers, maybe.

The lower levels of Takodana Castle had once been an ancient Jedi temple, a fact Obi-Wan had mentioned rather a few more times than strictly necessary on their trip over from Coruscant. It had been built on the site of an even more ancient battleground, where Jedi and Sith had fought one another centuries – maybe a millennia – ago. The Jedi had won, that time, and built the original Takodana Temple as a kind of memorial. Anakin let the tips of his fingers trail over the wet, warm stone walls as he walked, feeling to see if he could catch any whispers of the old voices. Old hurts, old betrayals, old war wounds…

He had started doing this thing, about a year or so back. He had discovered, largely by accident (not that Jedi were supposed to believe in accidents, just The Will of the Force, and all that), that he could, rather paradoxically, up the ante on his meditation skills by upping the ante on his distractions. He’d been filling in for Obi-Wan, who was supposed to have been taking a turn sitting in with a group of the youngest Younglings but had been called away at the last minute (or so he had said, at least; Anakin still wasn’t totally sure he believed him). Anakin had tried to keep to the Younglings’ schedule, which included a quarter of an hour of daily mandated meditation time. Younglings not being particularly good at meditation (they were worse at it than Anakin was, which was really saying something), they’d lasted only about half that time before starting to get fidgety. It had started small – a few coughs here and there, a couple of giggles, wiggling on their mats – and then had progressed from there to full-blown chaos. Anakin was supposed to be setting an example, though, and was determined to sit still, keep his eyes closed, and ignore everything that wasn’t an outright cry for medical attention until the allotted time was up.

What he had found, though, was that it was actually one of his better meditation sessions. The noisier the room got, the more relaxed Anakin got. He’d eventually opened his eyes to find one Youngling on his lap, another chewing on his Padawan braid, and a third hanging from the ceiling rafters, but had felt…calm and at peace and a little floaty, but also grounded, connected to the Force, the air, even the children. He’d asked Obi-Wan about it later that night over dinner. Obi-Wan had suggested they meditate over it, which made Anakin roll his eyes because he already had meditated today, that was the whole thing he wanted to talk to Obi-Wan about, and how much meditation did a person need every day, really? But after they ate he’d dutifully sat down across from Obi-Wan and closed his eyes anyway. Obi-Wan had reached out and taken Anakin’s hands in his, which almost made up for the double meditation session. (Almost.)

And then, just as Anakin was starting to settle into something resembling regulating his breathing, something hard and poky had slammed into the side of his head.

“Ow!” he’d said, reflexively, and opened his eyes. Obi-Wan’s datapad was lying on the floor beside him. Obi-Wan himself was still sitting serenely, holding Anakin’s hands.

“What the kriff did you do that for?” Anakin demanded.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan had said, without opening his eyes, “I thought you said you liked having distractions while you meditated.”

“Not painful ones!” Anakin shot back.

“Apologies.” The holopad, from the floor, flicked on and started replaying whatever the last thing either of them had watched on it, which happened to be a nature documentary about tee-muss. “Is that better?”

Anakin grumbled about it, but he had, sort of, asked for this, and admitting defeat now would be both embarrassing and would necessitate him letting go of Obi-Wan’s hands, so he closed his eyes and tried again.

Of course, the first thing he had to do was release the pain in his head into the Force, but once he’d done that, he found that, once again, sifting through his distractions was easier when he actually had distractions to sift through. He let the migratory patterns of wild tee-muss go, and felt Obi-Wan squeeze his hands. “Good, Anakin,” he murmured softly, so quietly Anakin almost couldn’t hear him over the documentary narrator. “That’s very good.” (Anakin had replayed the moment in his head, putting that voice of Obi-Wan’s into different and much more…naked contexts, so many times since then that he could get hard just thinking about it, now.)

So Anakin had started to experiment, on and off. He turned the holoprojector on in their rooms while he was meditating. He sat in the corner of the refectory and meditated during mealtimes. Once, he tried meditating during galactic history class, but his teacher had ratted him out to Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan had told him not to do that anymore. And, now, he wanted to see if he could do it while inside Takodana Castle on a bustling summer afternoon.

To be continued next Wednesday!

#obikin #wip wednesday #an uncivil war #pick up the pieces

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